#I know that the old one is technically from a comic and therefore a different rendering style

[chaikachi]

hi hello i'm having feelings about improvement again and holy moly

#I know that the old one is technically from a comic and therefore a different rendering style #but i didn't even used to do hair shines in those #the heck

[the-monkey-ruler]

So, all the children that swk has are 100% yaoguai monkeys, or are some of them human? I think King Paramiya and Yuebei Xing have human appearance? I mean the ancient writings, not books or adaptation of JTTW.

It’s hard to say as we don’t get a lot of information about them.

Paramita is easier to at least know what he could look like (however please keep in mind that this is a dream and that Paramita technically wouldn't have to follow any set rules due to being in a fantasy) as we know that his mother is Princess Iron Fan. He was not conceived in the traditional sense however as he was born when Wukong accidentally got Princess Iron Fan preggers when he jumped in her tummy. Funny enough he did this to like four other demons as well so... perhaps we know where Paramita's four unnamed brothers came from. Joking of course, it is said that Paramita's four other brothers are also Princess Iron Fans BUT THAT WOULD HAVE BEEN FUNNY.

The only description I can find in the book about Paramits is that he is "dashing" and this might cause he takes more after Princess Iron Fan. Sadly, looking like a monkey-yao was not considered "dashing" and therefore I think decreases his chances of being as such. Paramita would be half monkey yao and half Rākṣasī if he was real. There is few other pure yao children in mythos, the only one we really can compare him to is Red Boy (who doesn't exist in this fantasy dream) as he has a very human-looking appearance as well. I talked a bit about this, but it could be that since Wukong and Iron Fan are already very cultivated that their children would take on a human-like appearance to show this. In any case, Paramita wouldn't have any reason to look human since neither his parents are human, but still, he has powerful parents who have cultivated to a human form he would be able to have a human form as well.

Of course, there is a part in the Supplement JTTW where Wukong meets another version of himself but as an old man. Wukong is still a monkey but he sees another version of himself as well but as an old man that is his "true spirit" in Chapter 10. This is strange cause Wukong in his dream was he was called "only having a monkey face" but he wasn't Sun Wukong because he wasn't a Monkey Yaoguai. This could be saying that Wukong in his dream transcend his own monkey body and form and rather moving into a full human form. This would increase the chances of King Paramita's hypothetic form being seen as all-human if this was the case as well.

On the left is the White Ape Perfected Man that I think Wukong's "true spirit" would look like in Supplement. On the right is King Paramita from a modern Comic Strip published in 2021 as there is little to no other modern interpretations of King Paramita.

Yuebei Xing and her brother are a tad different and harder to pinpoint due to their mother being unknown. Certainly, they are half-monkey-yaoguai but as for mothers, it could range from another monkey yao to a mortal to an immortal to even Wukong using the baby river himself. Hard to say but there are possibilities.

If Yuebei Xing's mother was human than the chances of her and her siblings looking human increase greatly. However, if they are a yao then they COULD look human with some cultivation but that doesn't mean they would be born looking human guarantee. This is also a story that would be based more on the Xiyouji Zaju play Wukong where he kidnaps his human-wife in the introduction and doesn't reach Buddhahood by the end of the play so it would be within reason to believe that Wukong got another human-leaning wife whether that be mortal or immortal.

But unlike Paramita, Yuebei Xing DOES have a description!

"Monkey King had a daughter named Yuebei Xing. She had a crooked head with large eyes and a broad mouth, a wide waist, thick hands, and long feet with thunderous footsteps. Every time, she would utterly defeat her enemies. Yuebei Xing stepped forth, "I'm going too." "You were so ugly," the little Suns roared with laughter, "You will become a laughingstock in front of Huaguang.""

She is described as more outlandish in form and even called ugly, however, this could be that she simply takes more after her father's face as he was called ugly as well.... or maybe she is only ugly by monkey standards, it is hard to say. Despite this description, however, it does not say that she looks like a monkey or a human as while a detailed list of what she has, doesn't lean towards human or monkey either way.

I'm taking from @journeytothewestresearch page about his articles for Yuebei Xing but she is noted to have two forms from Secret Practice of the Primordial Lord Yuebei 元皇月孛祕法. So this is not from the same author as JTTS but can still provide some idea of what her past interpretations could have looked like.

"In the form of a celestial human, their hair is let down over their naked body. Their mass of black hair covers the navel. Red sandals. Their left hand holds the head of a drought demon. Their right hand holds a blade. They ride a jade dragon. In their modified form, [they display] a blue face with long fangs, a crimson garment and blade, while driving a bear." (Kotyk, 2017, p. 62).

It could be that in JTTS was learning more to her modified form as she is given more extravagant details to her description.

The left image is of Yuebei Xing in her celestial form with her sword in hand. On the right is where she is drawn as a man but still holding her sword and severed head.

However, these are descriptions based on Yuebei Xing outside of JTTS and therefore would not be considered to have any monkey relations to her. If that is the case then that could be as to why the author of JTTS didn't describe her celestial form or her modified form as he was creating a new original look for her NOW that she is half-monkey. It wouldn't be fair to say that she is one or the either considering that now her origins have not only changed but also are unknown who or what her other parent is either.

So overall I can't say that they can be 100% monkeys as King Paramita is half rākṣasī and Yuebei Xing (and possibly her brothers) are most likely not from a monkey-yao mother. But while Paramita wouldn't look monkey himself there could be hope for Yuebei Xing and her brothers since their origin has not only changed from her previous depictions but also that her mother is left to interpretations. So while the chances of her being 100% are low they are not impossible at the very least.

Take it as you will!

#anon ask #anonymous #anon #sun wukong #jttw #journey to the west #xiyouji #ask #supplement journey to the west #journey to the south #jtts #sjjtw #yuebei xing #paramita #jidu #luohou

[sil-and-seals-blog-something]

I have DND in like, an hour and a half, so I gotta make this prompt/idea dump quick.

DPxDC ideas to dump on anyone who wants to hear!

This one is focus on a little piece of Jason and Danny’s revivals.

So, first, Jason. Jason has had multiple things attributed to his revival, so I gotta clarify his first. For this idea, I wanna focus on the one that is basically this; Superboy-Prime (alternate version of Superman from Earth-Prime, which is a world devoid of any superhumans. Superheroes are comic book characters there. He gets the powers of Superman and, over time, his morals twist into much darker and villain-like morals. There’s more to him, but I won’t get into that) basically punched reality hard enough (at some point) that a lot of things happened as a result, including Jason reviving, but the panel that shows this stuff makes it look like reality broke like glass. So, I imagine that that leaves some sort of mark of Jason. He’s alive because of reality literally getting broken. (Like, don’t get me wrong, I love the Lazarus Pits stuff and all, but I wanna see more about the reality shenanigans of Jason’s revival)

Danny is kinda in a similar boat of having a funky relationship with the fabric of reality. He died and revived WITHIN A HOLE IN REALITY OPENING UP INTO ANOTHER REALITY. That’s gotta have some funkier side effects than just being a powerful halfa. Vlad is a powerful halfa and he only had a blast of ectoplasm thrown at him. Danny had reality tear open on him.

(I only brought Danny up because this thought process technically counts for him as well. But, he actually has this used much more than Jason.)

I’d love to see these details used more. Like, are they walking tears or breaks in reality? Can anyone tell that they have funky reality stuff going on? Are they a danger to reality? Is the reality stuff a danger to them? Is it like an open wound? Can it be worsened? Can it be treated? Would they die (or worse, stop existing) from it being treated? Do they get anything from the funky reality stuff going on with them? Does it fade without causing problems? Or does it remain in the background in a way that they don’t even realize that something is off about them until something happens and now it’s this big thing they have to deal with? Would their reality funkiness be the same or different?

And for DPxDC? Jason could be a halfa or he could just be some undead (maybe not even a specific type of undead beyond having been revived) that feels funky, funky in a way similar to Danny that gets Danny’s rogue gallery thinking that Jason is like Danny and either decides to mess with him (like they would with Danny) or try to get him to meet Danny (whether that’s to make them friends or otherwise is up to the writer)

Why don’t we jump on other places in the DC universe as having high ectoplasmic levels? Like, (in some stories, like, I’m not sure if this applies to the common consensus honestly) Central City had that wave of energy from the particle accelerator that activated a bunch of peoples’ metagenes, and I’m pretty sure that it also killed some people. There’s also the Black Flash, who is basically a grim reaper for the speedforce, who’ll appear in Central Coty (due to the multitude of speedsters there). Central City can be reasonably stated to have, at least, rising ectoplasmic levels. The cities that face alien invasions would reasonably have a lot of deaths and therefore a lot of ectoplasm. We can use a lot of other cities as settings. Also, I’d love to imagine the different possible city spirits people could come up with? Like, I’ve seen Metropolis done a few time, but besides Metropolis and Gotham? No other location spirits. Like:

Themyscira: Probably an old/wise warrior. She’d be set in her ways (considering how Themyscira is), but like, who knows?

Central City: Probably a young one if existent (at least, younger than Lady Gotham)? I imagine this one changing to be like the Flash family or scientific because the two notable things about Central City, that I remember, is science stuff and the Flash family.

Metropolis AND Smallville: So, I’ve seen some people play with the idea of the spirit of Krypton going and becoming Metropolis’s, but like, what if they became Smallville’s instead? Since, that’s where the Last Son of Krypton was raised and all, and where Kryptonians go as a safe space, and the spirit of Krypton probably needs the retirement to a small town. Metropolis could probably get a city spirit that reflects both Superman and Lex Luthor (Superman and Lex are the big names for Metropolis and both shape Metropolis in different ways. Yeah, Lex isn’t the best person, but he does cause some good things to happen for Metropolis. I imagine that the two are equally defining characters for Metropolis) instead.

I just, enjoy the concept of city spirits and spirits that embody a place.

This idea here is less of a prompt and more of a thought. What if Boston Deadman had no idea about ectoplasmic ghosts? Like, imagine having to need someone to magically make you visible, and then finding out about a whole other sect of ghosts that can be both visible AND tangible that can also have the same powers as you, just as a common baseline. It’s just hilarious to me to imagine how vindicated Deadman would probably feel to find out that he could’ve become that type of ghost instead, but no, he just had to be a magically bound one instead!

Idea for those who don’t like Jason just casually being cured of Pit Madness. Genuine attempt to heal him leads to Jason going catatonic again. Play with that as you will.

Hope y’all have fun with these. Feel free to mix and match, or recommend pieces of work that already have these or something similar.

#dpxdc #prompt #If you can’t tell #I’m a bit of a Jason Todd fan #I honestly made this whole thing for the first idea #then I had more ideas #but that first way rotating in my head for a while

[krisseratops]

Hi! How about A9, B9 and C6? Oh, and D10!

Hiiii hon! Alright lets see...

A9. Who was your first ship?

The earliest ship I remember that I got actually invested in is Reaper76 from Overwatch. I mean, traumatized old gay men who like to shoot at each other and have a HistoryTM? It covers all the basics for me. Also this ship is what made me find AO3, so it kinda introduced me to fandom as a whole and is therefore technically responsible for all the madness that came after it.

B9. Who is your OTP?

You know, I was going to say this is a hard question because I have so many pairings I like in several fandoms and I dont really pick favorites because I like different aspects about them and also Im indecisive. And then I remembered Symbrock. And nothing really comes near the level of absolutely messy devotion of (comics!)Symbrock. So yeah.

C6. Is there anything in canon that made you want to quit the show? What was it? Why do you hate it?

Oh boy, here we go... So not a show, but allllll the shit Cates did with absolute garbage & co and what came after essentially made me quit venom comics and comics in general. Do I even need to explain myself? Like I was keeping up with Venom and also Spider-man and some others because it was fun and enjoyable. And then came the egregious retconning, inconsistencies, character butchering (both how they were written but also literally), characters dying and coming back and dying again and coming back again and fucking gods apparently and how every single issue was The Most Shocking And Dramatic Things The Characters Have Ever Been Through and everything is just edgy and grimdark and angsty and so fucking STUPID and it was just. It wasnt fun or enjoyable anymore, only exhausting and frustrating and sad. And not sad like a sad story makes you feel, but sad like watching something you care about irreparably crash and burn in real time without being able to do anything about it and knowing you can never have it back the way it was (which there is enough of IRL). So I powered through until king in black where I just said "reading this bullshit is draining and depressing and doesnt bring me anything, its not worth it anymore so fuck it" and just stopped. And with my main reason for reading comics gone I ditched marvel comics altogether because lets be honest keeping up with all the different stories and timelines and crossovers and whatnot is exhausting cuz theres just so damn much going on all the time. And why torment yourself with shitty canon when you can have wonderful fanfics tailored to your specific tastes all for free? So I quit comics, read fics instead, got into some new fandoms, indulged my hc and have ever since been living blissfully unaware of the burning dumpster fire (derogatory) that is canon. I only see glimpses of it when it crosses my dash, which I use for cherrypicking for my hc and aggressively ignore the rest.

D10. What is one story idea you really want to read but no one has written yet?

I have a whole lot of story ideas I really want to read (my hcs) that no one has written yet (that would be cuz of me not writing them). But for real, I would love more stories with symbiote & spider-people shenanigans. Like there was this one comic of Peter, Miles and Gwen meeting Venom and fighting Doc Ock toghether and they were kinda buddies? More stuff like that, that has spider/symbiote interaction besides them just trying to kill each other. Maybe it exists and I just havent found it. But like, Venom in spiderverse, they have to team up with the spider gang and they kinda get along because he doesnt have any personal beef with them. He will absolutely recite and discuss Shakespear with that medieval spiderman, be enamored with little Mayday, and be nothing but gentlemanly toward spider ma'am. The other spiders find that "yeah he is freaky and has some dubious morals but isnt actually just an evil monster, he just doesnt like you Peter". The Peter in question does not like it one bit. Him and Venom (barely) tolerate each other, as they always do when they team up, but are constantly petty and passive aggressive towards each other in a funny way, bickering like an old married couple. Because of the nature of their history they also know stuff about each other and will casually drop highly personal details about the other that makes the other spiders go "👀 you sure he's your enemy and not just your ex?". Which Peter likes even less. Other story ideas i desperately need is ANYTHING WITH ANTI-VENOM HOLY SHIT WHERE IS MY BABY!?!?!?! I need stories that let him be a silly dumbass and a pathetic wet beast and occasionally getting railed that dont just exist in my head. But the amount of content on him is just dismal. I often feel like the sole inhabitant of the ghost town that is the Anti-Venom fandom. I've come across one (1) quality fic that portrays him properly (thank you @kitausuret for your invaluable service) and good art is hard to come by compared to other characters. And I realize that if I want more art of him and an Anti-Venom x Agent Venom arch-enemies-to-reluctant-allies-to-even-more-reluctant-friends-to-how-the-hell-did-this-happen excruciating slow burn, I will probably have to do it myself, which hghgnghgnhhh will take forever, but oh well.

Well, this sorta turned into an essay that turned into an impromptu vent post. Hope thats okay and you got your answers!

#Ask #Rant #Headcanons

[babyspacebatclone]

@bdkdkens , I happened to see your reply to a comic from @autball asking about what ABA is, and it doesn’t look like you have had an answer yet.

I studied ABA as part of my Community Psychology degree, and am happy to give you a rundown.

ABA = Applied Behavioral Analysis

It is a specific school of psychology with an emphasis on changing the behaviors of people - “Applied” means the focus on change (and not just accumulation of data), Behavior is obvious, and “Analysis” is an indication of the intention to be “scientific.”

On it’s own, everything in ABA is neutral to good: understanding the situations in which people do behaviors, and the forces that can either cause them to do behaviors more (reinforce) or less (punish in a very scientific sense of ‘make less desirable’).

The issue is two fold:

ABA focuses only on the observable, as part of their “scientific” obsession. I phrase it that way because the choice of “observable” means that internal thoughts, memories, etc….. If the Analysis themselves can’t prove they exist? They are literally ignored as irrelevant. If they happen to interfere with the Analyst’s work? They are actively suppressed - punished out until they stop being a “problem.” Instead of, you know, addressed as part of the individual.

This is because the most important person in the equation of ABA is the Analyst. Not the client, and not even the patient - which may be two different people, in the case of working with children. The Analyst is the be all, end all expert, and everyone else needs to acknowledge that or, well, be punished for interfering with the Analyst’s work.

Point 1 is baked into ABA; if you want to include beliefs, memories of past experiences, and even intrusive thoughts as things that influence behavior and are important, you’re going to go into Cognitive Behavioral Therapy. I, myself, align strongly with CBT as a therapy philosophy.

Point 2 is technically avoidable, but having studied under old-school supporters of ABA it’s almost impossible to avoid in practice.

One of my courses in college was taught by an adjunct - that is, someone who works in the field and teacher part time as a service for people entering into the field.

He was humane, reasonable, and respectful of the clients (adults with moderate to severe mental or intellectual disabilities) and teaching them life skills.

He convinced me behavioral principles worked, even in situations where explaining necessary things to people was not possible.

My other classes????

The most recent textbook actively told the students to prevent Autistic patients from stimming because it would interfere with teaching them.

The core issue with using ABA to “correct” Autistic children is the culture of ABA is that you have to force the child to act Neurotypical/Allistic, no matter the cost to the child.

(I use both NT and Allistic because an ABA will use the same principles on trauma symptoms, depression symptoms, etc.)

The goal is to either make the child act NT - explicitly to conform to the societal majority - or else at least not act Autistic and therefore bother the Allistics.

Because conforming to society - as defined by the Analyst - is the end goal of the majority of ABA

Not learning life skills - life skills are a means towards conformity - not mental health - because remember the internal mind doesn’t matter - and definitely not what the patient wants.

The patient is a problem to be fixed. To be cured, or hidden.

And that is why ABA needs to be stopped, burned to ashes, and a new field of applied behavior technicians put in its place for situations where straight CBT is not able to be applied (because I admit there are levels of mental and intellectual disability that prevent CBT from being as effective as pure Behavioralism).

Unfortunately…..

Guess what’s easiest for parents for parents of Autistic children to find, and get insurance to cover????

😣 😣 😣

#tw applied behavior analysis #aba #actually autistic #i can never exaggerate about aba #shocks have been used as punishments #electric #shocks #and it gets government funding #i am rage #an i was never a patient #i can only weep for those that were #my whole hearted sympathy

[lutiaskokopelli]

The Fifth Save is now 2 years old!

Hey guys! It's been... a while. But I've been working in the background quite a lot, and today is the day when I finally share it all with you! Last year's birthday present was the Discord server. What does it get this time?

First off: A Website!

This website is hosted on Github and contains the entirety of the comic so far— both the old version and the reboot version! Each page will show the reboot version by default, but you can switch back and forth between versions thanks to the godtuner buttons. Left one is the preboot, right one is the reboot, and the lit up godtuner shows which version is being shown.

Additionally, the website has a different layout depending on the size of your screen, which means that you should be able to read comfortably on both computer, phone, tablet and any other device. If you find issues of any kind, please let me know! I tried to think of all cases, but I am not flawless, after all.

It is of note that the reboot pages are of quite high quality. It's great for a good read, but it can also cause loading issues... I'll try to think of a better way to implement them asap in order to find the right balance between quality and reasonable loading times.

On top of the Github website, I am also considering hosting TFS on ComicFury. Depending on how it works out, it is possible that ComicFury may replace the Github website altogether! It all depends on whether or not I am able to keep the switch between preboot and reboot versions there too, of if ComicFury can't implement it.

Second: The story will officially continue once again!

If you take a look at the Github website, you will soon notice that from pages 01_05 onwards, unfinished pages will be shown. This is unfortunate, but this is also planned— hoping that despite their unfinished state, they can still be pleasant enough to read.

As you might have noticed, the comic has not advanced in a while. The original plan was to complete the reboot and catch up entirely with the preboot (aka the moment when Cornifer met Tiso) before continuing the story... But, once again: working on the reboot has taken a LOT more time than I had anticipated.

So, starting from today... We have a new plan.

The idea behind publishing the reboot's unfinished pages is so that the reboot can be read in its entirety, up to the very moment when the preboot had left off. The reboot version's plot and comic layout is now officially set in stone in its near-entirety (I unfortunately did not have enough time to completely finish it all for today, but hopefully I'll be done with that within just a few more days ^^'), which means that I technically met the conditions I set for myself in order to continue the story.

The reboot version's story has caught up with the preboot. This means that the story can now continue.

I will more or less alternate between finishing the reboot earlier pages, and actually continuing the story; that way, the reboot won't be left in an unfinished state forever, but since the story is fully present and readable by all, the story can also continue where it left off.

And lastly: The asks need some new rules.

I used to have a "policy" to integrate your asks in the comic exactly as they were sent, typos and grammar mistakes included. But the latest asks have become incredibly long, and as a result, both hard to include in the comic, and annoying to read; not to mention that, as a reminder, I now have nearly 150 asks to take care of.

Therefore, I'll have to sometimes (read: often) rewrite your asks for the sake of better storytelling. If you want your asks to be included as they are, then make sure to keep your asks as short and to the point as possible.

Unfortunately, it also means that I probably won't be able to integrate every single ask I have received. I will, however, keep every single one exactly as it was sent to me, and keep them available somewhere else. Your asks will never be abandoned to the void, even if they don't make it to the comic.

And that's it! I hope that's good enough as news, and I hope the comic will be able to progress more smoothly from now on.

#the5thsave

[lab-trash]

Villain Arcane

Chapter List

“If they were doing a solo mission, why would they send you? Why not Skylar? I hate to rank us, but Skylar is by far the most powerful, therefore the best choice for a solo mission, especially a recovery.” 

“I’m not on a mission,” Oliver responded. 

“So you’re just… here?” Chase asked. 

Oliver could bend this. 

“Marcus found me too,” He said. 

“Why would he want you?” Chase asked. “It makes sense for me, I’m the most likely to keep him from dying.” 

Oliver froze. 

“What?” He asked.

“Androids have a short battery life. Well, relatively,” Chase started, “Douglas kept it a secret from him, but Marcus is an old android. The fact that he’s still going is a big shock. The only thing I can think of is if Giselle changed something. But originally, he wasn’t supposed to be able to make it to 16.”

“But you guys met Marcus three or four years ago. How old was he then?” 

“I don’t know,” Chase admitted. “I didn’t ask, and you can’t tell from appearance.” He finally let his head rest, now staring up at the ceiling again. “It reminds me of Skylar. Like, how old is she?”

“22,” Oliver answered. “But also technically like… 107 or something, it’s not explicitly stated in the comics.” 

“Exactly. I have no idea how old Marcus is, only that he’s designed to resemble someone in his early 20s. But he’s still got the maturity and responsibility of someone our age. It’s a moral conundrum.” 

Chase looked back up again. 

“Hey, why aren’t you tied up and stuff?”

“Uh,” Oliver hesitated, trying to come up with a reason, “I-I mean, why should I know? But if I had to take a guess, I’d say it’s because he knows I don’t have bionics and he couldn’t stop my powers if he wanted to,” He rushed out. Reminded him of Kaz after seeing a movie.

“He knows you’re not bionic?” Chase asked urgently. 

“Nope. He scanned me, didn’t find a chip,” Oliver explained. 

The room fell silent after that, allowing Oliver to scan it. 

The table that Chase was strapped to was up against the wall, with a computer desk at the opposite wall. The back wall was pretty much blank, save for a single piece of paper taped to the wall.

Oliver quietly stepped closer to get a better look at it. 

It looked like a blueprint of some kind, only on white paper. It was too complicated for Oliver to understand. Any robotics he’d done, he was just messing around. He’d never actually looked at or made a proper blueprint. 

Chase probably understood it, even without his chip. 

“Once Marcus goes to sleep, you can get us out with your super strength.”

“Right,” Oliver said. “Uh… You should stay,” Oliver said. “Marcus will just capture you again if you don’t.”

“Not if we dismantle him.”

“I’m not doing that,” Oliver responded. “He’s basically a person. That’s murder, Chase.” 

“I dismantled my androids,” Chase said, as if it were some sort of excuse. 

“This is different.” 

“How is it different?” 

“It just is!” Oliver snapped. “It’s different! Okay? We’re not killing Marcus!” This released more than Oliver expected. “There were androids at Mighty Med. And them dying was just as devastating as anyone else. I know you probably see him, and all other androids as beneath you, but I come from a place where everyone is equal.  “And you can’t even take a team vote on this, because Skylar and Kaz will agree with me. We’ll never kill, that’s not who we are, we save people.”

“One is better than many!” Chase reacted. 

“We’re not killing Marcus,” Oliver repeated. “Mighty Max is equipped to hold someone like him. I’ll have to get my communicator, but I’ll come back for you.” 

It was weird. Oliver was saying the words because he knew he was supposed to, but he could feel how empty they were. It was like he was lying instinctively. 

“Fine,” Chase said begrudgingly. 

Soon enough, Oliver left the room. He didn’t have to use his superstrength, he just turned the knob. 

As soon as the door shut, he could hear Marcus. 

“Finally!” Marcus exclaimed. “Was starting to get worried for a second.” 

“About what?”

“Oh, those walls are enforced to withstand even my superstrength, which is probably stronger than yours. Don’t want you getting hurt, now do we?” 

“You were worried I was going to escape,” Oliver translated, although it was more of an assumption. 

“No,” Marcus said. “You’re allowed to leave at any time. I won’t stop you.” 

“Seriously?” Oliver asked, disbelieving. 

“Of course. I mean, if you leave, I’ll just move hideouts again. No harm done,” Marcus said. 

“And if I don’t leave?” Oliver asks. 

“I dunno, might still move, haven’t decided yet,” Marcus said. “Like I said, there’s a bed here for you, if you want it.” 

“You’re serious about that?”

“Deadly,” Marcus said. “No, not that serious, but yes, I am serious.” 

“I’d have to leave anyway,” Oliver said, “There’s all my stuff at home.” 

“I trust you,” Marcus said again.

“Why?” Oliver asked.

“I already told you; I know you better than you know yourself.” 

“I, uh,” Oliver started, honestly not knowing how he was going to end the sentence. “I don’t know my way home.” Marcus laughed slightly. 

“You want me to take you?” 

Oliver didn’t answer, but Marcus took that as a yes— as he should’ve. 

They left the building and Marcus scooped Oliver up, much like he had before. He sped Oliver home. 

He dropped Oliver in an alley a few blocks from his house. 

“You should be able to find your way back from here, yeah?” 

“Uh, I mean, yeah, probably,” Oliver said awkwardly, still feeling strange in Marcus’s arms. 

Luckily, that didn’t last too long, since Marcus put Oliver back onto his feet. 

“If you’re still thinking on it, you know where to find me.” Marcus sped back off in the direction they came from. 

Oliver stood for a second, stunned and, admittedly, flustered. After a moment, he shook it off and launched into flight. He was only a couple of blocks away from the building, as he learned once he was higher up. Even so, he just flew the rest of the way home. 

He stopped in front of his building and managed to land semi-well before going inside. 

It had been longer than he had expected, the sun was just about down. 

Unexpectedly, when he entered the penthouse, he was faced with many frustrated, fearful and worried looks. 

“Where have you been?” Douglas practically yelled. 

“Do you know how worried we’ve been?” Skylar asked. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Kaz asked, being the first to walk up to him. “You know I just lost one of my best friends, what makes you think you could just run off like that?” He shoved Oliver before pulling him into a bone-crushing hug. 

“You could’ve at least taken your phone with you,” Bree said, waving the device in the air. 

“I just needed a little time away,” Oliver said, gently pushing Kaz off of him. “Like Skylar said.”

“Where’d you go?” Skylar asked from the couch. She wasn’t looking at Oliver.

“I just flew around, y’know?” Oliver said. He tried to make a conscious effort not to make it look like he was lying. “I got a little carried away, had to find my way back.” That should excuse how long he’d been gone.

“Chase radioed in again,” Skylar said. Oliver didn’t let himself stiffen up. “You were there.”

“I wasn’t,” Oliver said, shaking his head. “Doesn’t Marcus have vocal manipulation?” 

“But Chase seemed to really believe it was you,” Skylar said, turning to look at him now. “No cyber cloak, no nothing.”

“Isn’t Marcus like… super smart?” Oliver asked, “He probably figured something out. And it’s not like Chase could scan him to see.” He walked forward a bit, trying to seem as natural as possible. “I swear, I wasn’t there,” He said. 

He settled behind the kitchen counter, looking back at his friends. 

“You guys gotta trust me,” He said. 

He pretended that he didn’t know why he was lying. To make himself feel better. He was a good person, he had to be. He saved people. He saved the people who saved people. He’d saved Kaz many times, which also made him someone who saved a person who saved people who saved people. He couldn’t know why he was lying; he was a good person. He was a hero. 

“You’re right,” Bree said. “We should trust you.”

“Good,” Oliver said with a nod. 

He did know. He did know why he was lying.

#lab rats #lab rats elite force #mighty med #chase davenport #marcus davenport #oliver mm #oliver lref #villain arcane

[your-brilliant-lady-m]

Part 4 - Basic Concepts of Miraculous Ladybug: Glamour

You can call it however you want: kid's show logic, superhero disguise logic, magical girl show logic, cartoon laws, suspension of disbelief, etc. But the fact that nobody recognises Marinette, Adrien and others when they are suited up IS NOT BAD WRITING. It's one of the main laws of this genre. That's not because characters are stupid, okay? So, being frustrated that everyone in the show acts stupid about this "wearing a mask that covers only eyes" trope is strange. This criticism is not valid or fair.

But, this trope has to make sense in-universe as a worldbuilding and narrative element.

Miraculous doesn't give us much direct information on how glamour works. And in this case, I think we need both SHOW and TELL. Because if you don't establish the glamour rules clearly, you are going to run into problems and create unfortunate implications with your storytelling choices.

Appearance

Miraculous obviously gives our heroes magical glamour. In "Lady WiFi" we find out that masks can't be taken off. It's magic. No other explanation is needed.

Miraculous can slightly change the appearance of users (eyes, face shape, height and hairstyles). People can identify and notice the hairstyles of heroes (numerous Ladybug wigs, statue in Copycat). Jagged Stone points out the change of hair when he mistakes Chloe for Ladybug ("Antibug"). But it's just a costume. There is no magic that prevents Jagged from understanding that Chloe isn't Ladybug. So, how does it work? But it's forgivable because it's cartoon logic. Suspension of disbelief works here, I suppose. I won't judge this too harshly.

Glamour also obviously prevents people from making a connection that Marinette and Ladybug have identical hairstyles. So people know that Ladybug wears her hair in pigtails, but magic does not allow them to notice similarities.

Another important question. Does glamour work on Kwamis? Can they see who is behind the mask?

New York Special makes it clear that magic does not affect robots and they can see through glamour. Does that mean that Markov, AI built by Max, knows the identities of Ladybug and Chat Noir? And it's never addressed.

Plagg in "Frightningale" says that holders can subconsciously choose their superhero appearance. This is actually pretty interesting and I like this idea a lot. Except the show is not consistent with this. The transformation of Master Fu looks identical to Nathalie's. And we have seen how different from each other Ladybug and Black Cat holders looked in the past. At the same time, Master Fu and Nino have different takes on Turtle superhero suit.

Age Glamour

Does age glamour exist? Do people see Ladybug, Chat Noir and other heroes as adults even when they look like teenagers to the audience (their height and build are smaller even when they are transformed)? Is that why no one ever questions the fact that children nearly die on a daily basis?

I mentioned unfortunate implications earlier. Well, this is where they come into play. Let's talk about "Copycat". A lot of people discussed it before me, so I won't bore you with details.

When I watched "Copycat" for the first time Theo's crush on Ladybug didn't bother me, because I thought that he sees Ladybug as his peer, a girl who is about 20-23 years old. Theo is an artist, his character design is that of an adult. He has his own studio, its appearance indicates that he did serious commissions in the past. The guy has no idea that Ladybug is like 13.

But then we get "Heroes' Day" and "Ladybug". And Hawkmoth calls them "kids", which means that there is no age glamour. Others see Ladybug and Chat Noir as teenagers. Perhaps, other Miraculous users aren't affected by age glamour. Therefore regular people see all heroes as adults but other heroes are able to guess their age more or less correctly. But you must spell this thing out because the audience can interpret "Copycat" differently. If there is no age glamour, then Theo is crushing on a teenage girl and he is fully aware of this fact. And this doesn't look good for your show.

The "No Age Glamour" theory is further confirmed in "Sapotis" where Alya just straight up analyses voice recordings and says that Ladybug is a girl their age. If glamour exists then it should also cover technology. Kwami can't be photographed. Face and voice recognition software shouldn't be able to analyse transformed superheroes and detect their identities in any way.

Besides, after "Sapotis" Alya should definitely be sure that Ladybug is not 5000 years old (also not an adult), especially after she wore Miraculous herself and was one door away from detransformed Ladybug.

SEASON 4 UPDATE! There's no age glamour after all.

In "Furious Fu" Su Han calls Chat Noir a child without knowing his identity. It means that everyone knows their superheroes are teenagers. "Copycat" can't be saved from that, uh, subtext anymore. No one questions the danger of their job or the balance of their lives outside of the mask. No one doubts their competence after "Origins" ever again. No one becomes annoyed after being bossed around by two teenagers in spandex. You had many opportunities to drop these details into the narrative. Someone could have been akumatized over this (I will not be ordered around by some magical kids!).

I don't know why writers decided not to use at least this idea and slightly adjust "Copycat" if they got rid of the age glamour completely. It can be explained as kid's show logic, but unfortunately, I'm reluctant to do it. If many characters sympathise with akuma victims on-screen, why not with the teenage superheroes who must fight them?

New York Special had this weird focus on collateral damage out of nowhere (the damage done by sentimonster Robostus) and yet it has 0 effect on the main story. No one in Paris is pissed that their 2 teenage protectors weren't there.

Ironically, "Furious Fu" and that one remark made by Su Han also created unfortunate implications for other moments in the show. Just hear me out. Apparently, Jagged Stone wrote a "thank you" song for Ladybug knowing that she is 13-15 year old child back in "Pixelator". Fandom is more than happy to roast Lila for lying about saving Jagged Stone's cat and him writing her a "thank you" song. Fandom claims that Lila's tale could harm Jagged's reputation, when he wrote a song for teenage Ladybug several weeks prior. Meanwhile, in-universe this lie is 100% believable.

If we put on "realism glasses", then both this whole song situation and Theo's crush in "Copycat" have uncomfortable implications. However, the show's canon can't be viewed and criticised through "realism glasses". I admit that bits and pieces of my criticisms are affected by these "glasses", but, ultimately, I'm trying to be fair and concentrate only on things that can't be justified by "cartoon logic and worldbuilding".

Could the existence of age glamour solve this problem of unfortunate implications and other concerns mentioned above? YES. Is it better for the narrative? YES. Is essential for the story? NOT QUITE. Could the absence of age glamour be called an irredeemable storytelling flaw? NO.

Disclaimer: On a side note, only older audience can notice these implications. Children, the target audience, most likely won't understand this subtext simply because they don't have enough experience. So, perhaps, this criticism is unfair, because these moments only look weird to me as an adult. It's like an adult joke in a cartoon that you don't get until you reach a certain age.

There's nothing technically wrong with adult writing a "thank you" song for a teenager. It's just an expression of gratitude. However, unfortunately, we live in a world, where adults normally wouldn't write songs for teens to express gratitude only. In real life similar actions would imply pedophilia and would be actively scorned by the public. No one would risk their reputation like that even if their intentions were genuinely pure and sincere. But this show can't be viewed through "realism glasses", because it's a cartoon and in certain cases we as the audience must use suspension of disbelief and pretend that certain things are possible for plot to happen.

Su Han also wants to give Ladybug and Black Cat to adults. Why didn't Master Fu do this then? Writers don't give us any explanation. Throughout the show we never question this up until the moment it's revealed that adults don't have time-limited powers. Then comes "Furious Fu". Story suddenly becomes self-aware here. Because apparently nothing prevented Fu from giving the most powerful Miraculous to adults who won't have time limit and will be more effective against Hawkmoth (see part 3 for more details).

I have a very good example of Age Glamour done right. It works in the story. There is no confusion or unfortunate implications. There is like one plothole connected to the glamour (it's been years and I still can't forgive them for Cornelia and Caleb) but otherwise, it's a pretty solid example of both show and tell. Clearly, writers wanted to avoid uncomfortable implications which are present in "Copycat". I am talking about W.I.T.C.H. comic books and animated series.

If you are not familiar with it, I'll give you a brief explanation. The story follows 5 girls, the Guardians of Kandrakar who are chosen to protect their world and parallel ones from evil. They receive magical powers from the amulet known as the Heart of Kandrakar. Their powers are based on elements: fire, water, earth, air and energy. Our main characters are about 13-15 years old. In the animated series they are younger and they attend middle school, making them 12-14 years old. But the transformation makes them look 18-20. They look like young women to each other and to other people. At the same time, people can recognise them, their looks and voice don't change. Most people don't know that they are really teenagers when they are not transformed and these people don't know that magic can make them look older. That's why everyone treats Guardians like adults when they are transformed. Comics establish this fact in the very beginning. In first issues characters state that they look older, we are also shown this multiple times.

In fact, one of the first side plots revolves around the fact that Irma uses her powers to sneak into the disco club to meet up with her crush. Irma is 13 at the beginning of the series, she is a high school freshman. Her crush, Andrew Hornby is a senior guy 17-18 years old. Irma has liked him for a long time and wants to impress him, so she decides to be clever about this. She transforms into her Guardian form of the 18-year-old girl, hides her wings, sneaks out to the club after her parents are asleep without any problem, and meets Andrew, who obviously doesn't recognise Irma in this girl who looks about his age. Smitten Andrew offers her a ride and 13-year-old Irma doesn't understand the implication of that offer, so she accepts. And, obviously, he decides that she is interested in more than just a ride home, since she agreed, and the comic implies that he fully intended for them to have sex in the backseat of his car. But Irma understands the implication only when Andrew tries to kiss her. She panics and turns him into a frog. And she actually pulls this "I need to look mature" trick more than once over the course of the series.

It's not the only situation where this age difference is handled well and makes sense. People who know the main characters in everyday life remark on their older appearance during transformation. Sometimes people flirt with Guardians when they are transformed. In one of the side-novels centred around Cornelia, she is worried that the prince of the realm they helped to save from famine would try to marry her. That never happens, but Cornelia actually brainstorms with her friends about how to tell the prince that she is really 15.

There are many other plot points where this happens, but I think that you got the idea. I really like how "Age Glamour" was handled in W.I.T.C.H.

How do we fix this? Create the situations where people offhandedly mention "Age Glamour" in the presence of Marinette or Adrien, use Kwami for this.

"Don't worry, dear. Chat Noir and Ladybug are adults, who know what they are doing. I am sure that they will handle this. "

Theo could say: "Oh, I wonder which university Ladybug goes to?"

"So, does that mean that other people see us as grown-ups, Tikki?"

A few words and boom, problem solved. Then allow the "show don't tell" rule do the rest.

#miraculous ladybug #ml #miraculous analysis #miraculous meta #ml meta #ml analysis #miraculous transformations #miraculous critical #miraculous ladybug critical #miraculous glamour #superhero glamour #miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir

[metellastella]

In Honor of Deltarune Chapter 2, Lemme tell you about exactly HOW world-breaking Chara really was, and IS.

Here's the thing about Chara. It is implied that they are THE PLAYER's insatiable thirst for new video game worlds (or, they have latched onto it). As in, they accompany the player to the next world they go to.

Direct quote:

"HP. ATK. DEF. GOLD. EXP. LV. Every time a number increases, that feeling . . . That's me. Chara. Now, we have reached the absolute. There is nothing left for us here. Let us erase this pointless world, and move on to the next." i.e.: Let US move on to the next.

Every time THE PLAYER conquers and sets aside a new game . . . they have effectively DESTROYED it. Because they do not "exist" unless they are played and interacted with. Also, they only exist up until the end of the game anyway (most of the time)

And- I say usually- no matter how many times THE PLAYER plays a game- they will eventually tire of it. Also, if they play 500 games in their lifetime . . . it is unlikely they will re-play that many consistently. Plus, add on random internet "mini" games.

Now, that's only considering ONE player.

But since Chara is a multi-dimensional being, because they are aware of other worlds . . . it's not much of a stretch to say that the millions of people who are carrying around Chara "with" them count . . . as Chara.

Bill Cipher, from Gravity Falls, to my knowledge, despite his reality-warping godly demon powers, makes no such 4th wall shattering and domineering claim.

Let's assume for sanity's sake, that this current dimension you're sitting in and reading this screen on is the primary reality. There ARE no dimensions higher than this. All others are contained within human imagination. Bill Cipher was Created by a Creator.

All the 'lower' dimensions we can muck around in as basically gods. (gods or demigods either incarnate as weaklings, or come about some other way, in many mythologies, but then grow steadily stronger to realize their godhood. Ya know, Hercules. Krishna. In Hinduism. That sort of thing.) We can travel between dimensions on a whim by flipping a switch. With enough Determination, we can ALWAYS reach the end. Now, sometimes collaboration does expand these universes a little bit- through comics and fanfiction. But even these created 'higher spheres' nearer to this primary dimension, author 'omniscience' is taken as a given. Actually there is some debate about that, given the real-world phenomenon of novel writers in some cases having no clue where characters are taking them . . . they just sit down to write with a kernel of an idea. That's how I operate, for instance. In that case, they somehow have had their 'future sight' that should be default as a god, blocked. People who outline plots and know where they're going with a story beforehand, and then create characters to fill in the gaps, they're the type of 'gods' that could tell their characters future events, if they wanted to. Anyway. Back to video games specifically, and their fandoms. There is only so much CONTENT and it can always be recorded and shared. So there is still a limting factor.  Here's the weird thing about Undertale. You are there as a 'god.' Just as usual. That's nothing special. You're just there to muck around. But. The whole toe-curling horror aspect UT was demonstrating, for specific characters NPCs who realize this sobering fact . . . such as Asgore and Sans, they are driven to despair, mental instability, and in two cases, suicide, by the fact.

If Homestuck is considered a "game" that is destroyed once you reach the end? It is rolled into all of this as well.  Homestuck is a game. What evidence to I have of this, since it's a 'written story'? It has many playable elements and 90% of its lore and plot is based on deconstructing game conventions and sticking them back together in weird angled positions with crazy glue.  Therefore. If the player reads Homestuck after playing Undertale, (i.e., someone who is newer to internet culture, and entered it after Undertale came out, which was far after Homestuck) Chara has CANONICALLY destroyed the Homestuck Universe.  (or, if you re-read Homestuck after playing Undertale)

YOU. The PLAYER make or break all fictional characters. They live and die by your interest in them, or, for games, your direction, and no other character has explicitly taken YOUR control over the game, as Chara has. In Homestuck, it never gives you something to "do" and then takes the decision away from you, as Undertale does.

Chara, except for someone who has 100% control of that little dopamine rush that comes with leveling up (read: no one), is out there, gleefully wringing out, growing bored of, and then destroying hundreds of thousands of worlds. Chara is the first of zeir kind.  And possibly the last.  Or at least, anything that comes afterwards will be but a pale imitation.  Toby Fox is truly LEGENDARY, in this way.  I'm not sure even he fully understand what he's done here.  Let me try to explain this.  Our education system is currenlty ripping itself to pieces over back-breaking student loans and the realization that we don't actually need all these professors because of the easy availability of information on the internet (Demonstrated, in a roundabout way, in one or two deft lines of dialog in the movie A Beauriful Mind). Now, let's say colleges and universities do survive this shift in society, going foward. It's probable that at the very least technical colleges and vocational schools will. Any others, including high schools, will be replaced by students shrugging and just taking a G.E.D. certification, because why should they spend time at a high school if they hate it, or if they want to learn at their own individualized pace? No reason to do that at all. If the stuffy old guard of the outdated higher education system ever starts treating stories told by video games as literature, as they ABSOLUTELY SHOULD, because they're merely a different medium, not some weird separate thing . . . Toby Fox, having overturned the "trope" of the RPG "genre", wrecking and dismantling it so thouroughly that it has unsettled millions of people who ever again play an RPG where they slaughter any monsters for 'points.'  He should be immortalized. Just like any other author in history who has churned out a landmark piece of literature.  It's merely his fair due.  Perfectly logical, right?  He is the Ubermench game-changer. Literally.  I hope Sans appreciates the pun. Chara is the vehicle through which this overturning of the trope happens. Chara stares directly at the player, deconstructs a longstanding staple in the 'literary genre,' and gives a body and voice to the psychologically addictive quality of video games.

One estimate says there are more than 60,000 video games in existence. And millions of copies of each one.

Chara, as we've established canonically, has access to ALL that are played after a runthrough of Undertale. (or at the very least, genocide Undertale) In Hinduism, it is Shiva that is the god of destruction.  To quote Oppenheimer,  Chara has become Death, Destroyer of Worlds.  Checkmate.

Q. E. D.

Endgame.

#undertale #undertale anniversary #chara undertale #toby fox #indie games #steam games #gamer #video games #RPG #literature #genre #it really is that deep fam #Metella's Metas #writer #writer problems #novel #suicide mention #homestuck #gender neutral pronoun #gender neutral character #gender neutral chara #education system #deltarune #deltarune chapter 2

[levitatingbiscuits]

hi sorry i just need to rant about lightsabers for a bit. (bear with me. i swear this isn’t just nitpicking the accuracy of physics and swordplay in a space opera, bc I swear I wouldn’t make a post JUST for that)

so, i have a bit of experience with swords. not actual swords, but bokken and wooden replicas, at least. i’ve been trained in basic shakespearian stage combat since i was 8 years old, but the only move I got really good at was the moulinet, aka that flippy thing everyone complains about in the prequels:

however, unlike everyone claims, THIS MOVE IS NOT USELESS. sure, it can be used to show “i’m fancy and well-trained,” but it’s ALSO extremely useful for acquainting yourself to the heft and length of your weapon, as well as readjusting your grip if your other hand is occupied (historically by a shield), or even if you just wanna do it quickly because you’re worried the other guy is about to stab/disarm you. it also helpfully keeps others at bay when your grip is at its weakest because they don’t wanna get hit by the blade and bleed tf out, much like poor anakin up there. Not to mention, IN UNIVERSE they can use moulinets to deflect blaster fire and seek openings in other saber users’ defenses.

HOWEVER X2: this move should not be possible with a plasma blade/”laser sword.”

plasma is weightless. the moulinet depends on the weight of the blade to function. imagine trying to do this move with a deadly flashlight instead of a sword, which is essentially what a lightsaber is. ewan and hayden were given sticks to stand in for the lightsaber blades, which is the only reason they can physically perform this move. (also probably why their stances are all so dumb -- the physics are COMPLETELY different. Only Makashi even vaguely resembles irl blade combat, and that’s because Christopher Lee was a fencer and George incorporated that. Maybe Ataru too, to a lesser extent, but that was because Liam Neeson got trained in broadsword combat for Rob Roy and kept accidentally using irl techniques during his fight scenes.)

BUT: that’s where the Force comes in.

Why is the lightsaber the signature weapon of ONLY the Jedi, when they can so easily be used to devastating effect? Simple answer: lightsabers are super fucking dangerous. They can cut through anything, with minimal effort, so if you drop it it can and will cut through whatever it touches, ESPECIALLY flesh and bone. it’s also weightless, and therefore it’s SUPER FUCKIN EASY to overexert yourself and cut through more than you intended, because it goes through your opponents and solid rock like a hot knife through butter. Even in metal’s case, it’s like a cold knife through fudge. if you aren’t Force-sensitive, you’re just as much of a danger to yourself and your companions as you are to your enemies. that’s probably why the mandalorians didn’t immediately manufacture a million more darksabers, despite it being the weapon equivalent of a wet dream for them: shit just isn’t practical. it’s a status symbol precisely because it’s such a pain in the ass to use.

but we KNOW there’s some force fuckery afoot with the kyber crystals, as well. they’re sentient, and the main way Force nulls can even use them is in giant superweapons. Jedi gotta bond with those little assholes, have to have a fucking vision quest before it will deign to be used by them. Sith have it even worse: they gotta break them to their will by running the gauntlet of their own worst (lightest, technically) thoughts and deepest self-doubts. in return, it sings to its Jedi, and screams at its Sith. 

so i theorize that the only reason why saber users can keep track of where their blade is going is because the saber tells them through the Force. The moulinet is the ultimate expression of skill in saberplay because it signifies complete trust in, and a constant connection with, your crystal. There is a reason Anakin Skywalker often moulinets, and Darth Vader does not. His crystal chose him, and later chose his son, but he stole that red saber from Master Infli’a and made it bleed. It hates and fears him.

This is also likely why the Jedi emphasize control above all else: they don’t really need power or strength that much if the saber is doing 90% of the work for them. They just need to guide its path. Vader can probably get away with being reckless because of his plasteel armor and robot limbs (when Luke hit his armor in ESB it bounced right off). Instead of practicing restraint, as the Jedi did, he just cuts his son’s hand off when he wants to disarm him (eh? eh??). Severing limbs was typically a last resort for the Jedi, the final way to end a fight without killing your opponent, which is why it’s so tragic that Obi-Wan has to cut off so goddamn many to protect those he loves. It gets to the point that he’s pretty blase about the whole thing by the time of ANH. Vader does it to scold his kid. He’s at his farthest point in his fall here.

Anyway, the lightsaber physics of the sequels ended up REALLY bugging me because of this. Sure, they were hardly realistic in the earlier films, but at least they were consistent. This video essay makes a lot of great points, the primary one being that WHY IS NO ONE FUCKING DYING WHEN THEY GET HIT BY A LIGHTSABER. Finn should have lost the use of his legs, at the very least, and Kylo’s skull should have split open like a ripe melon. The REASON the comics emphasized that Asajj was showing off when she gave Anakin his facial scar is because it takes incredible precision to do that to someone without instakilling them, much less leaving him the use of his eye. Rey swung that shit at him like a baseball bat and Kylo was totally fine! 

AAAAANYWAY, this is yet another reason in a fucklong list of why the Order has to start its training so young: so those cute lil babies don’t accidentally kill everyone with their Space Powers when they throw a tantrum or cut off something important whenever they get in a fight.

#star wars #lightsabers #swordplay #moulinet #Ramblings #Anakin Skywalker #Luke Skywalker #Asajj Ventress #Obi-Wan Kenobi #jedi order #kyber #kyber crystals #kirak infil'a #i have an essay due yesterday so i decided to write one about lightsabers instead #im an idiot #pro jedi #pro jedi order #jedi culture respected #qui-gon jinn #count dooku

[bourbonbees]

Suptober Day 6- Cemetery Boys

https://archiveofourown.org/works/34336042

Rating- G Jack POV

Jack has discovered there are a great deal of things that he loves about being human, he loves eating cake, taking his dog for walks, and swimming, but there’s nothing he loves more than his family. His family is not conventional, he’s got three dads, one of which is an angel, but all of them love him unconditionally. It’s rocky at first with Dean but after some quality time spent listening to Zep and going fishing together, the grumpy hunter warms up to him. It also doesn’t hurt that Jack’s first dad, Castiel, is also Dean’s partner and therefore holds a lot of sway over him, whether he likes it or not. Sam, his third dad was the best! He’s the one that establishes family movie night, Jack’s favorite night of the week!

Sam lets Jack pick the movies pretty much every week, much to Dean’s dismay. This week Jack chooses Ghostbusters as his pick. It’s great, he especially loves the jokes and the Stay Puffed Marshmallow man. He isn’t sure where the writers did their research for the movie though, his experiences with ghosts contain a lot less whimsy and a lot more salting and burning. The movie is just wrapping up when it hits him, they don’t have a name, every great team of heroes has a name.

“Hey, why don’t we have a name?” Jack poses the question, looking to Dean for a response.

“Kid, how much candy have you had? Are you sugar crashing? Remember, me Dean, you Jack, that annoying guy over there, Sam, this adorable ray of sunshine, Castiel.” Dean is concerned, he feels Jack’s forehead and looks him over, his parental instincts kicking in.

“No like a team name! Like there’s The Avengers, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, uh The Fellowship of the Ring.” Jack lists off, Sam sending him a proud smile at the last one.

“Jack, hunters don’t really do teams. We’re kinda solitary, it’s our nature.” Sam explains, causing Jack even further confusion as he looks around at his family. They do everything together, live together, celebrate wins together, spend holidays together, work together, is that not a team?

“We’re not a team? Isn’t a family a team?” Jack frowns, worrying that he’s misread a long series of social cues. He is prone to that sometimes, his brain working a bit differently from his dads, neurodivergent, that’s what Sam had called it.

“Jack, oh, of course we’re a team. But more than that, we’re family.” Cas swoops in, reaching over and patting Jack on the shoulder. Cas is always the gentlest of his dads, he gives really good hugs, and is the one Jack goes to on the days where being a human is too much to deal with.

“Would it make you feel better if we had a team name?” Dean offers, following Cas’ lead. Jack doesn’t miss when Cas sends Dean a small nod of approval. Dean has a different parenting approach, sometimes he’s a bit harder on Jack. Jack doesn’t like that but he understands that Dean is trying.

“Yeah, I was thinking Cemetery Boys!” Jack says right away, looking around the room expectantly. Sam chokes slightly on his beer while Cas smiles approvingly, Dean laughs softly, shaking his head at Jack.

“Well we do spend a disproportionate amount of time in cemeteries, so it makes sense to me.” Jack defends, his cheeks feeling hot, blushing, that’s what Sam had told him it was. Sometimes Jack hates being human, blushing is embarrassing and makes him feel a bit like a baby.

“Shouldn’t we be cemetery men?” Dean questions, raising a quizzical brow at Jack.

“Technically speaking, Jack and myself are neither male nor female. So, no.” Cas supplies, shrugging his shoulders at Dean and earning an eye roll. Jack doesn’t understand why his dads enjoy teasing each other so much, maybe annoying someone was another human way to express love?

“So, you’re telling me, I came out as bisexual for nothing because, I’m not really dating a man?” Dean blanches, gently smacking Cas on the shoulder. Hitting people is another love language Jack has learned, but not too hard, he learned that after accidently punching Sam a little too enthusiastically on the shoulder. Play fighting is good, actual violence is bad, he had explained that to him.

“We’re non-binary! Claire taught me that.” Jack is happy to interrupt, always happy to share the latest things he’d learned. He loves Claire for that reason, she’s always full of new things to learn, she is an excellent big sister. “Claire, Me, Cas, and Dean, we’re all LGBLT? Or is it LGBTQ? Either way, Claire is a lesbian, she also taught me that. And Dean, you’re a bisexual! Cas, you’re gay, I think? So, you didn’t come out for nothing, you came out for your non-binary partner.” Ha! Jack is very proud, this is one area he feels confident he knows more about than Sam, Dean, or even Cas.

“You’re surprisingly well informed for a toddler.” Sam compliments, tipping his beer bottle at him.

“The toddler age range ends at 3, I assure you, Jack is 4. He is no longer a toddler. I read all the development books.” Cas corrects, earning a laugh from Dean and a groan from Sam.

“He did, trust me Sammy, made me read some of them as well. Babies are weird man. Glad you came out fully formed kid, it was a relief.” Dean chuckles. Jack is relieved he came out fully formed too, it’s a lot more fun hanging out with his family when he can talk to them like this.

“I’m a celestial being, age doesn’t exist for me. I am as old or as young as I want to be at any given minute. Isn’t that neat?” Jack prides himself on choosing this form, a teenage body, he likes it because he can help his family. He likes going hunting, driving cars, and helping Dean cook dinner, a baby couldn’t do any of that!

“He really is your son-uh I mean they really are your child?” Dean self corrects, Jack notices he does that a lot more lately, again he really is trying to be better. Jack admires that about Dean, it’s something he tries to emulate as best as he can, always working to be a better person and make his mistakes right.

“Oh, I’m comfortable with he/they, just like my dad! I do feel like a boy most of the time.” Jack looks to Cas who nods along with him. They’d talked about it once, Cas explained that Jack could change a number of things about himself if he wished, if it would better match his soul. But Jack is really and truly happy with who he is. So is Cas.

“Yeah that’s my son.” Cas says fondly, pulling Jack into a hug. This is a good hug, the kind that makes Jack feel safe and cared for. Cas always makes him feel like he belongs, that no matter what he has a place in his arms.

That night, Jack sets a plan into motion. He waits until everyone is asleep and gets to work on creating gifts for his family. He uses his powers to manifest a set of matching black crew neck sweatshirts with the words ‘Cemetery Boys’ embroidered on the front in white thread. He then designs a magnet, putting a little ghost and tombstone on it. Once he’s satisfied he goes through the recycling and finds a box to put the sweatshirts in.

The next part is the most dangerous. Jack, creeps down the hall to the door that leads into the garage attached to the bunker. His eyes glimmer when he finds his target, the black 67 Impala, sitting dead center in the garage. Dean had just waxed her the day before so she was extra shiny. Jack likes when Baby is shiny, it makes the sun reflect on his face, nice and warm. He takes the magnet and carefully places it on the bumper, making sure not to scuff or scratch the shiny metal. Then in a flash, he is back in his room, laying in his bed as if nothing has happened.

Dean doesn’t notice the magnet until they are packing for a hunt the next day, a simple salt and burn case in Wisconsin. The whole family is going! Dean has even promised Jack that he will take him to Wisconsin Dells if it goes well and they will go to a place called Deer Park where he could pet and feed a bunch of deer. Jack likes animals, sometimes more than people, they’re much less complicated.

“Oh my god! My Baby is a whore! You gave her a tramp stamp?” Dean gasps, pointing to the offending ‘Cemetery Boys’ magnet on the bumper.

“You like it? I made it myself!” Jack beams with pride, hoping Dean was speechless because he was blown away by his ability to create magnets.

“Also, the term you’re looking for is sex worker. You need to be more sex positive Dean, especially for someone, who from the sound I hear coming from your room at night, seems to enjoy sex a great deal.” Jack blurts out nervously when Dean doesn’t respond. Jack tends to do that, he wishes he could stop, another part of what makes him different from most people.

“Oh, for the love of Christ. Please Jack, no.” Sam is doing something Claire told Jack is a facepalm, meaning he was either embarrassed or frustrated, perhaps both?

“Do not be ashamed of our healthy sex life, Dean. But do but ashamed of your gendered slurs and generally overdramatic demeanor. The car is unharmed, it’s a magnet.” Cas steps in, doing the teasing thing again. Jack really doesn’t understand his dads, but he’s glad they seem happy together.

“I swear one day Baby and I will drive away and leave you all behind. Traitors.” Dean threatens, this is a joke, Jack measures. Dean does that a lot, uses sarcasm and empty threats, at first they used to confuse and frighten Jack but now he just accepts it’s part of his nature. Dean is grumpy. Loveable but grumpy.

“See your theatrics are quite comical. You couldn’t leave us if you tried. Who would open the pickle jars for you, darling?” Cas smirks, Jack remembers witnessing this scene, Dean saying all the “no words” at a jar of gherkins as he struggled for a good 5 minutes, until his dad took the jar and opened it within two seconds.

“It was one time! And I swear I loosened it!” Dean glowers, clearly ashamed by the great pickle debacle of last week.

“Dads, stop. I will remove the magnet.” Jack decides it’s his job to play peacemaker, he steps up and gently takes the magnet off baby’s bumper, Dean visibly sighs in relief. Jack tries to hide his disappointment, he’d meant the sticker as a gift.

Cas notices his mood shift and is by his side, pulling Jack into a side hug. “Hey, you can put it on my truck.” He offers, rubbing Jack’s back and making him instantly feel better, must be magic dad powers Jack figures.

“Thanks dad, this is why you’re my favorite.” He says without thinking, Sam and Dean giving him matching offended expressions.

“Uh-what about me, I’m the one that sneaks you candy when Cas isn’t looking.” Sam makes a good point, he is exceptionally good at sneaking. He and Jack have so much fun together, that’s how they ended up with Miracle the dog. Sam had helped Jack smuggle him into the bunker and once both Jack and Cas had bonded with the dog, Dean couldn’t kick him out. Though Jack knows that Dean loves the dog just as much, he’s caught him slipping Miracle some of the good bacon when he thinks no one is looking.

“No Dean is the one that gives me candy. You help me pull pranks!” Jack laughs as Dean, flinches, quickly busing himself with packing all their bags in the trunk along with the weapons they’d need.

“Dean!” Cas says in his low, ‘oh no you’re in trouble,’ voice. “We’ve dicussed this, Jack’s intake of high fructose corn syrup is frighteningly high. He needs to eat real food.” He adds. Nougat is a food, Jack thinks privately, nougat might be his favorite food in fact.

“He’s a kid, he’ll be fine. Dean and I lived on that shi-stuff as kids and we turned out alright.” Sam, usually the vegetable police, surprisingly comes to Jack and Dean’s rescue, earning a matching raised brow from them both.

“Did you though?” Cas challenges, hand on his hip, sometimes dad gets sassy. Jack likes when dad gets sassy because it’s funny, makes him laugh.

“Well damn, don’t sugar coat it or anything babe.” Dean says in disbelief, opening the passenger door for Cas, Sam climbing into Baby’s backseat before Dean motions for Jack to come sit behind him. “Do I even want to know?” He sighs as he spots the box Jack is carrying.

“Well you’ve all been distracting me, I almost forgot.” Jack pauses as he opens the box and holds up the Sam sized sweatshirt. “I made us all shirts! Team shirts, we’re the Cemetery Boys!” He says proudly, shoving the shirt at Sam, then two at Cas, one for him and one for Dean. Jack pulls on his own shirt right away, stretching his arms and modeling it for them all.

“Can you all wear them for me?” Jack pulls out his trump card for this one, using the ‘look�� that Sam had taught him. He made his eyes big and kept them open just long enough so they were watering slightly, then bit his lip.

“I really screwed myself when I taught you my secrets. Really, using my own puppy eyes on me. Really short sighted of me to teach you that.” Sam sighs as he pulls on the sweatshirt, Cas doing the same.

“Nope, still not doing it. I don’t do matching shirts.” Dean holds firm, shaking his head at Cas when he holds out the sweatshirt to him as they pull out of the garage.

“Dean, the couch in the library is awfully uncomfortable. It’d be a shame if you had to sleep there.” Cas is firmly on team Cemetery Boys, pulling out the big threats to get Jack his way.

“Ugh fine, but no one can ever find out about this!” Dean groans, waiting until he’s at a stop sign at the end of the road to pull it on. Jack lights up, his team is complete, all three dads are wearing his shirt!

“It’s funny how easily emasculated you are Dean. Life is a lot more fun when you stop caring about gender expectations.” Cas smirks, Dean rolling his eyes at Cas and mimicking his know it all expression.

“Dean is sensitive, dad, and he’s really good at making pies! I think he cares less than you think he does.” Jack pauses, pleased when Dean makes eye contact with him in the rearview mirror and smiles. “Besides, I saw the pink underwear he hides when I helped with that laundry that one time.” He adds, Dean’s smile quickly disappearing, his eyes wide as he tightly gripped the steering wheel.

“Jesus Christ, kid, stop selling out all my secrets.” Dean grits between his teeth, now he is blushing. Jack knows Dean hates blushing just as much as he does.

“Oh that’s good! Can’t wait to tell Claire that one!” Sam barks out a laugh, taking his phone out of his pocket.

“You wouldn’t!” Dean hangs his head in shame when they stop for a train.

“Already did!” Sam sing songs, holding up his phone. Jack is sometimes thankful that Claire doesn’t live with them, living with your sibling seems exhausting sometimes, if Sam and Dean are any indication.

“Alright that’s enough Jack, don’t spill all the coffee. Your dad is allowed to have his secrets.” Cas intervenes, gently patting Dean’s thigh.

“Tea, dad, its spill the tea!” Jack sometimes can’t handle how out of touch his dad is. Guess that’s what happens when you’re millions of years old.

“Oh right, what’s the difference?” Cas sighs, laying his head back against the headrest as if he’s exhausted, Jack knows it’s just for dramatic effect because Cas doesn’t sleep.

“Cas, there’s big difference! One is the nectar of the gods and the other is glorified leaf water.” Dean defends, holding Cas’ hand, it’s meant to be a private gesture, but Jack can see it and it makes his heart happy.

“Tea is good.” Sam tries.

“I rest my case.” Dean counterpoints.

The case is a rough one, it turns out to be a bit more than a simple salt and burn. The ghost, a family annihilator was coming from beyond the grave to try to kill his son who had survived his attack. They had split into two groups, Dean and Cas at the cemetery burning the bones and Jack and Sam with the victim, trying to keep him safe.

“Do you think maybe we can take a photo together in our shirts?” Jack asks offhandedly as he and Sam roam the house looking for any objects that might still tether the ghost to the house.

“Why do you care so much about these shirts and taking a photo together?” Sam asks curiously, making Jack pause to think for a moment.

“Because, I’ve been watching a bunch of shows and movies, and all the families in them, they have all these photos together. They make all these memories together and they display them in their houses for everyone to see. I want that. The fact that we don’t have that makes me kind of scared, like this isn’t real. Like you all are prepared to run at a moment’s notice if I go nuclear.” Jack explains, using air quotes around the word nuclear.

“Oh. Oh. Jack, hey, it’s not like that. I guess, well we’ve been so busy saving people and hunting things, we’ve lost track of normal family things. You’re family Jack. Promise.” Sam says right away, pulling Jack into a crushing hug. Sam is strong, Jack hopes to be that strong someday.

“Can we take a photo then, a family portrait?” Jack asks hopefully.

“Family portrait? Family portrait. Shit! Jack, the family portrait!” Sam gasps, letting Jack go and looking around the room with wild eyes.

“Huh?” Jack is trying to catch up before he spots the family portrait hanging above the fireplace, both the victim and his evil departed dad in the photo. He rushes to grab it off the wall and tosses it into the fireplace. Sam pulls out a container of salt and lighter fluid, coating the portrait, then Jack tosses a match, lighting it on fire.

“Good work kid.” Sam grins as the ghost appears and then bursts into flames. “I think you’ve earned that portrait.”

True to his word, the first thing in the morning, Sam helps Jack use the laptop to find the closest portrait studio. It happens to be a JC Penney portrait studio, making Dean groan and complain about cheesy backgrounds and awkward poses that they’d likely endure. With much coaxing and further threats from Cas to relegate Dean to sleeping with Miracle on the dog bed, he agrees to the photoshoot.

Jack gets several copies of the photos made. He hands out wallet sized copies to Mary and Eileen who both coo over how adorable they look. Cas gets it framed and hangs it in the library, Dean never admits he likes it, but Jack catches him stopping to look at it every day, a proud smile on his face.

This is Jack’s family. His team. His Cemetery Boys.

#suptober21 #cemetery boys #supernatural #destiel #jack kline #jack kline pov #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #fan fiction

[behindheremeraldeyes]

title: Empty Nest

summary: It’s been a peaceful week for the Titans, as nothing bad has happened in Jump City. And although she knew she should be enjoying that while she could, Raven just couldn’t rest until her little Robin returned to his nest.

a/n: okay... This is my very first DamiRae fic and I’m really really excited-slash-nervous about this! To be honest, it was very hard to work with their own particularities and I guess that was why I had such a great time writing this fic! It’s a fluff, not very complicated (but definitely longer than I had originally planned), and I do hope you guys can enjoy it! Constructive criticism is VERY MUCH appreciated, please! It’s a new experience for me, English is not my main language and I would love it if you could tell me your honest opinion (especially since I’m not really familiar with the comics yet). Have fun!

Also, I would like to thank @ravenfan1242 for being so sweet and for always making my dash so beautiful! Thank you so so much for making me feel so welcomed!

Pairing: Damian x Raven

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The clock was striking 3:07 am, but her amethyst eyes were still wide open as she flipped yet another page of her newest, mystery book. The tower was quiet, as most of its inhabitants were asleep, and from her large window, she could see the dim lights of Jump city flickering across the distant shore. For an entire week, there had been no reports on villainous acts, and apparently, that night would be no different.

Life seemed to be oddly peaceful, and for she knew better than to believe that would last forever, Raven was determined to enjoy every second of that temporary peace. It had been ages since she had last stayed up late reading, hence, the empath figured that would be the perfect opportunity to share such a delightful night with a hard-covered book.

Yes, that was definitely the reason why she was awake at such late hours of the dawn. Or at least that was the lie she had been telling herself for the past 6 hours.

Though it wasn’t really unusual for her to get lost in the pages of a good novel, Raven was just too stubborn to buy her own excuse. She knew the book was but a mere consequence of her insomnia— the sole whiteness of what has become of her nights whenever her little bird was summoned by the bat.

Yes, as embarrassing as it could be, Damian Wayne was the reason why she was up at such late hours. Though she knew better than to doubt her boyfriend’s impeccable combat skills, it was inevitable for her not to lose sleep whenever he had to go to Gotham in order to aid his father in yet another dangerous mission. Even with Bruce and Dick constantly patrolling the streets, she has never liked that cursed city, and knowing he was there fighting against A-class criminals such as the Joker and Bane was more than enough to leave her worried.

Her heart was beating incredibly loud in her chest, the air in her lungs felt heavier and even if she had technically read over 50 pages of her book, her eyes were constantly glancing towards her phone, waiting for the only notification that could make her feel less like a ticking bomb. Raven needed to know he was safe, and that would only happen when he had time to answer the message she had strategically sent him a couple of hours after he left for his mission. She would always choose her words carefully, making sure he wouldn’t notice her real intentions, and eventually, he would end up saying he was on his way back home to the Wayne mansion or anything that would imply it.

Most of the times, Raven would just ask him to send a pic from something she knew he could only find in the mansion, such as Titus, Alfred or even a picture of himself after a warm shower. Even if she could just ask him directly about his whereabouts, the empath didn’t want him to know she was actually worried about his safety, or else his ego would certainly explode.

He is a Wayne, after all.

That night, though, instead of a not-so-random pic, she had asked him to bring her a pack of chocolate chip cookies she has only ever found in Gotham. It’s a special recipe from an old man that lives a couple of blocks away from the police department, and even if he has once shared his secrets with Raven, that delicate taste of cinnamon is still a mystery to the empath. Those cookies are probably the only good thing about that forsaken city, and if they could help her keep track on him, then they were really the best cookies she could’ve ever asked for.

An annoyed sigh escaped her lips as she could now feel her stomach growling inside her belly. If just that stupid anxiety wasn’t already enough, now Raven was also growing hungry at the thought of her cookies. At that moment, she also realized her reading wasn’t taking her anywhere, therefore she chose to shut the book and let it rest over her chest. She closed her heavy eyes for a moment, then, taking a deep breath before picking up her phone from her nightstand. It had been hardly 16 minutes since she had last checked it, and she could feel anger running through her veins.

How much longer was he gonna take with those bandits? Had Batman never heard of curfew?

Apparently, not even all of those years of meditating seemed to have prepared her for dating a Robin. She was growing impatient with every passing minute, and as she held her phone in her hands, a new, desperate idea crossed her mind.

Raven was going to call him.

Even if she rarely ever used that phone for such purposes, and even if she knew he might be busy, the purple-haired girl had made up her mind. She was going to risk inflating his ego so she could check on him, and if by Azarath she discovered he had ignored her message and was already fast asleep back home, chances were that she was going to teleport to Gotham just to scold him— even if theoretically she knew he didn’t really deserve to be scolded.

Yes, that was exactly what she was going to do. She was going to call him, and he would better have her damn cooki—

Her cellphone buzzed. A new message was displayed on the screen, and as soon as she saw his name there, her amethyst eyes widened. Quickly, the girl sat up on her bed, the book sliding from her body, and it took her less than a second to unlock her phone so she could read the words her boyfriend had sent her.

‘Long night. I’ll ask Alfred to get it for you tomorrow. On my way home now.’

Her eyes read that message at least three times so she could make sure she didn’t misunderstand his words. Once they entered her head, though, it was as if a wave of relief rushed through her system. Her heart settled, a soft smile took over her lips and it was as if she could breath normally again.

He was going home. Finally.

At last, Damian was out of the dirty streets of Gotham and on his way to the safety of the Wayne mansion. She didn’t need to worry anymore— at least not for the rest of that night— and now, she could finally allow herself to fall asleep.

But not before a warm mug of tea.

A satisfied sigh escaped her lungs and in one, swift move; Raven was standing on her feet, stretching her arms above her head. Her short, purple hair framed her small face, slowly brushing her cheeks as she walked out of her room and towards the kitchen. For everyone was already asleep, she made sure not to make any unnecessary noise as she boiled the water in the electric kettle. She opened the cabinet to get her black mug, and soon, poured the water with the tea-bag already waiting inside.

The relaxing scent of chamomile invaded her nostrils, and maybe it was because she was still trapped in that rare, blissful moment of pure peace; but that lazy smile refused to leave her lips, as she carefully made her way back to her room with her tea in hands. At last, the empath was ready to sit back, relax and even read a couple more pages while the tea lasted. Perhaps, she could even go back and try to understand what she had supposedly read in the past couple of hours so she wouldn’t waste a good book.

Yes, that seemed like a nice idea, indeed. She nodded to herself, accepting her newest decision, and expertly, she used her elbow to activate the sensor so the automatic door could slide open. Her semi-dark room quickly came into view, a soft breeze blowing her locks away, and once her amethyst eyes landed on her bed, her heart skipped a beat.

Lips parted, eyes widened and knees slightly shaken. Though the sight of that green mask on his face was far from unpleasant, Raven would be lying if she said his presence didn’t startle her.

Damian has that effect on her. Always had and always will, she knows.

“You really have to stop sleeping with your window unlocked, Rae.”

His voice filled her ears and unconsciously, her chest grew warmer at how casual that short version of her name escaped his lips. Her eyes were set on him, watching as he took off his heavy boots. His eyes weren’t looking at her, but if they were, the raven haired boy would’ve noticed the way her shoulders tensed at his presence and the way her hands had turned slightly paler around the mug. The ceramic was still hot, but at that moment, she didn’t seem to care about that, no.

Unexpectedly, her boyfriend was back. And though that was far from an emergency, nothing else seemed to matter anymore.

“Damian...” His name rolled out of her tongue almost as a whisper. What was he doing there? Why didn’t he return to the mansion where he could get some proper rest after the night patrol? Did something happen?

Slowly, the empath realized her thoughts were leading her to think about bad scenarios that could explain the whole thing, and even if she was trying not to overthink, she knew better than to believe that was even an option at such hours.

Her eyes were now clinically scanning him, and physically, he seemed to be okay. There were no signs of major bleeding and all of his limbs were where they were meant to be. Could it be that something had happened to Bruce, then? Did they have a fight and that was why he didn’t go back home? Maybe Alfred—

The sound of her room’s automatic door closing suddenly brought her back to earth, and she could finally get a hold on her thoughts. She swallowed dry, releasing a sigh she didn’t know she was holding, as she took a couple of slow steps towards him. He had finally freed his feet from those boots, and judging by the way his lips curled up, it was easy to deduce that freedom felt nice after hours of kicking bad guys.

“You—” She spoke, his face now lifting so their eyes could meet behind his mask. Perhaps she really could just ask him why he was back so soon. “What are you—“

“Even if I doubt bad guys would even consider using your window to invade the tower, I’m pretty sure Kori wouldn’t like to wake up in the middle of the night with the intruder alarm.”

“What?” She asked, confusedly, as she had clearly not payed any attention to what he had been talking about before. “The window? No, that’s not important. I—“

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m probably the only one who uses it to enter your room anyway.” He chuckled, a smirk now playing on his lips. His elbows were now resting on his knees as he moved his neck to relieve some of the tension. “And besides, we can always blame Gar for the—”

“Damian!” She started, her voice an octave louder, cutting his train of thought. Once he noticed how serious her face looked, his smirk suddenly disappeared. He was definitely listening now. “What are you doing here?”

His eyes squinted under his mask, a wrinkle forming on the bridge of his nose, and Raven realized he looked genuinely confused at her question. For a couple of seconds, the room grew silent around them, and slowly, she felt her patience dying inside of her. The clock was about to strike 4a.m and she just didn’t feel like playing games anymore.

“... I live here, remember? The Robin of the team... The future leader of the titans. Are you okay, Rae?”

“No, that was not— Tch.” She scoffed, using a hand to massage her temples. That was really not her night. “I know you live here. I just meant to ask why you’re here and not in Gotham. You usually spend the night there after patrolling with Bruce. Did something happen?”

“Oh, that.” He started, his voice now holding a calmer tone. His lips were now slightly curled up, and judging by the way he stood up and tilted his head to the right, she could tell he was trying to read her as if she was an open book. Even if he refused to admit so, Damian was very much like his father, and that certainly included Bruce’s impeccably annoying, detective skills. “Nothing happened. I told you I was coming home.”

“I-I know you did, but...” She asked, taking another step closer and pointing an accusing finger at him. Her brows were knitted, as she was clearly not in the mood for jokes. “You better not be hiding anything from me, Damian.”

A smirk crossed his lips at the sight of his girlfriend all fired up, and if anything, he didn’t back off a single inch from her. Even if she could still not see his green eyes, she knew they would be holding that sly gleam that is so characteristic of him. “Don’t worry, okay? Nothing bad happened, I swear. The patrol was quite boring tonight so I just decided to get the jet and come back a bit earlier.”

“Really? Simple as that?”

“Yes, simple as that. I give you my word.” He lifted his right hand as to illustrate his seriousness, and at that moment, after analyzing his body language, Raven thought she could believe him this time. His voice sounded calm and she couldn’t feel any turbulence in his emotions, so, perhaps, she could accept the simple answer this time. Unconsciously, then, her expression softened, and she decided she could just be happy to have him back and they could finally get some sleep together.

Simple as that, she thought.

But maybe, Raven had made up her mind too soon.

“Why are you so surprised, though?”

“What?” Her eyes widened, a confused expression taking over her face.

“Well, you seem quite surprised that I actually chose to come back. Is there any particular reason for such reaction, Raven?”

Shit.

Though she had first believed to be the one in charge of their little argument, only now Raven could see how he had so smoothly turned the tables. At his words, she could feel her throat growing dry and she knew he was coming too close to the truth she was trying to hide.

She hated whenever he did that. Whenever he started to press her into voicing something they both already knew — because he knew, she was sure of that. He knew she was overthinking and that she was worrying over nothing. He knew she was trying to understand his reasons so she could accept her own answers.

He knew she was hiding something stupid. And he wanted to know what.

“Tch, don’t be ridiculous, Damian.” She tried to dismiss him, which was clearly to no avail. Raven crossed her arms across her chest, looking away from him, but she could still feel his eyes on her, as if they were stripping her from her own facade. “I’m glad you’re here. Just curious on why you didn’t use the door like the rest of us.”

“Well, it is 4am, Rae. Kory and the others are still asleep and I didn’t want to wake them up.”

“Oh, but waking me up was fine, then?”

“But you weren’t really asleep, were you?” He grinned. “Judging by how wide your eyes are and by the fact that you’re drinking tea instead of water; I don’t think it’s just a coincidence that you’re still up.”

The teasing tone of his voice made her want to punch him in the face at that moment. She had fallen right into his trap, and she knew she didn’t have much time to come up with a plausible answer if she didn’t want him to grow even more suspicious than he already was.

Raven had to say something. Anything would be better than to give him that chance to tease her into admitting the truth that she was, indeed, awake and waiting for him to get home safely. Even if that wasn’t really an interrogatory, she knew her boyfriend was using his elevated IQ to get the answers he wanted so he could use that against her in the near future. She couldn’t give him the taste of victory, no.

He would be insufferable if she did.

“I lost track of time while reading a book, that’s all. Most days you would find me asleep by now.”

“A book, sure...” He started, clearly not buying her excuse. “Are you sure you weren’t awake because you were worried about me?”

“You wish.” She said, turning to face him once again, as their eyes stubbornly battled for dominance.

Neither of them gave any signs of backing down anytime soon, and even if that could be slightly frustrating, both Damian and Raven enjoyed that little game of push and pull. It was exciting, the thrill of their little competition, as it showed just how intense their love could be. They flirted with very narrow limits and took advantage of slight changes on each other’s body language; and if anything, that only showed how deeply they cared for one another.

How deeply they loved.

“If you say so...” He started, the words slowly leaving his lips. He was smiling softly now, his tall body towering over hers as he took her left hand in his gloved ones. “Either way, I’m glad you’re up. It’s like you’re welcoming me home and it feels really nice. Thank you, Raven”

At his pure words, Raven couldn’t help but feel her knees shaking under her weight. Her heart skipped a beat and her chest got so warm that something inside her melted.

That little bastard.

Now he had really done it.

Even if the empath knew better than to simply believe those words held no deeper meaning, she knew he had carefully chosen them just to mess with her feelings. After giving up on teasing her with his standard strategy, Damian chose to use his secret weapon that would only work against her. It wasn’t meant to cause her pain or anything of the sort, but it sure was a powerful enough to take her down.

Damian was being soft, to the point where she couldn’t really resist. He was being sincere and true to his feelings, and perhaps, that was the main reason why she couldn’t find it in herself to even fight back. She knew about his past and his deepest struggles regarding his future. She knew about all the things he had to go through in order to be where he is now, and it’s impossible for her not to feel touched whenever he voices his true emotions.

For years, he had to walk his own, merciless path alone, not knowing for sure he had a place to call home. The expectations he had upon himself were too heavy for him to carry alone, yet, he never stumbled or complained about them. He has always been so hard on himself, never accepting anything but perfection— he was raised as the perfect child, after all.

He was never accepted. Never loved or even welcomed for most of his life.

But now—well...

Now his life was so much different than before. He has a father, a brother, friends and a place where he can be himself and make as many mistakes as he wants.

He has a place to call home and a person waiting solely for him. And the best part in all that is that he knows.

He truly knows.

As realizations stroke her, the empath released an exasperated sigh. It was really late—not that she was even planning on sleeping anymore— and there was no way she could beat him anymore. Her heart was moved by his low move, and the only thing left for her was to silently admit defeat and properly welcome him home.

Her mug of tea— now colder than Dr. Freeze’s ice beams—was soon enveloped by her magic as it floated around the room until she placed it on her nightstand. She freed her hand, then, and slowly, she reached for his face, her fingertips touching the edges of his mask. He didn’t flinch, she noticed. He never really does whenever she touches him. His silence was the only permission she needed, and soon, Raven removed his mask, finally being able to look deep into his emerald eyes.

They stared at each other for a little too long, examining every change and every flicker hidden behind those orbs. Her amethyst eyes were looking at him softly, and she watched as all that bold malice disappeared from his lips. Damian was offering her a delicate smile, and before she knew it, her lips were also curling up. A soft blush tinged her cheeks, and at that moment, she could sense their emotions mixing together.

They were the same. Perfectly connected by one feeling called love.

“I’m glad you’re home, Damian.” She spoke, simply. “It made me happy, too.”

“TT” He scoffed, bitting his lower lip in order to suppress a smile. “And you still wonder why I chose to come back.”

A chuckle escaped her lips, and before she could even answer his statement, Raven felt his hand on her lower back, carefully pulling her closer to his body. It was a soft and slow move, but soon, she found herself on the tips of her toes and their lips were pressed firmly against each other. In one hand, she was still holding his mask, and with the other, the empath reached for his cheek, caressing his skin and holding their faces together in a chaste and puerile kiss.

It wasn’t needy, sloppy or rushed; for they knew there was no need for that. They had all the time in the world to enjoy their shared kisses, and thankfully, they knew exactly how to enjoy that time.

“You know...” He started, pulling back just a few inches from her lips, his hand now resting on her hip. “I could get used to this. Maybe I should start giving you a new book every time I have to go to Gotham.”

“Though I would love the new books, I also need to sleep. I can’t keep doing this every time you have to go to Gotham or else I won’t be able to keep up with morning practice, and we both know Kory is going to get really pissed.”

“Yeah, you’re right...” He nodded, a new smirk taking over his lips. “I really need to hurry and become the leader of this team.”

“Keep dreaming, Wonder Boy.” She chuckled, playfully patting his cheek before walking away and towards her desk, where she carefully placed his mask. After that, she reached for a big drawer near her dresser, picking a white towel and tossing it at him. “Now go clean yourself already, Damian. A true leader can’t smell like Gotham.”

“Heh, well, we did go check the sewers tonight.”

“Ugh, gross.”

“Perks of being a super-hero.” He nodded, folding the tower in his hands. “Do you wanna take off your pajamas and join me?”

“It’s 4am, Damian. The only people showering now are the ones who really need it.”

“You have a fair point.” He stated, detaching his cape from his shoulders and unbuckling his upper armor.

“Of course I do.” She said, watching as he turned his back to her and walked towards the bathroom. He turned on the lights and placed the towel on the cabinet, as he was now focusing on removing his gauntlets. Though it seemed to be a simple uniform, removing the accessories was a real pain in the ass. “Do you need help with the zippers?”

“Nah, don’t worry. I got this. Get to bed and I’ll meet you there soon.”

“Okay.” She nodded, pulling the sheets so she could get under them. She looked at him one more time, his shirt now removed and exposing his defined muscles and battle scars. Damian has grown into a handsome man, for sure, both inside and out. Looking at him like that, in such a casual condition such as taking a shower in her bathroom made her heart flutter with joy, and though she could now feel the lack of sleep taking its toll on her, Raven couldn’t wait until he was finally sleeping safely by her side.

They both deserved a good night of sleep. And even if they would have just a couple of hours to enjoy it, it would still be enough. It had to be.

“Damian...” She spoke, making him turn to face her one more time before closing the bathroom door so the steam wouldn’t invade the room.

“What?” He asked, curiosity spread across his face.

“Don’t take too long... I’m waiting for you.”

Slowly, a genuine smile took over his lips and he nodded before closing the door behind him. She turned off the lights, then, and soon, her head was resting on her pillow and her eyelids closed over her eyes. Raven took a deep and relieved breath, then, and slowly, felt her muscles relaxing against the mattress.

Now that he was back, she could finally rest.

Now that he was back, she could finally sleep.

As her ears captured the sound of water running down, a genuine smile took over her lips, and if anything, she knew it would be there by the time she woke up again.

fin.

#damirae #robrae #demonbirds #rachel roth #Damian Wayne #mydamiraefics

[rachelbethhines]

Vintage Shows to Watch While You Wait for the Next Episode of WandaVision - The 50s

So the first three episodes of Wandavision have dropped onto Disney Plus and like me you’re probably already obsessing over it. Also like me you’re probably jonesing for another fix while waiting for more as the episodes only come out once a week. 

But never fear, we literally have decades of cheesy comedy sitcoms to sift through to keep us entertained during quarantine. Along with the occasional action and/or horror stuff  if you’re so inclined. So if you’re trying to decide where to start I’ll be making short lists for each decade that coincides with each episode. 

1. I Love Lucy (1951- 1957)

The granddaddy of all American television sitcoms staring the first lady of comedy herself, Lucille Ball. While not the first sitcom to air, tv had been kicking around since the late 40s, this show did pave the way for many technical innovations for the new medium both on and behind the scenes. As such Elisabeth Olsen cited Miss Ball’s work as one of her inspirations for her role as Wanda in the series, as do many a woman entering into the comedic field. 

Also the show is just flat out funny. One of those rare 50s sitcoms that manages to overcome some of it’s more dated aspects through shear force of personality and peak comedic screwball antics. The only downside is you have to have Hulu to watch it as the copywrite is tightly controlled even to this day.  

2. Amos ‘n Andy (1951-1953)

The 1950s television landscape was overwhelemingly white. It’s no secret that POC had a hard time finding work in the field of entertainment let alone be the stars of the show. Amos ‘n Andy, a spin off of the earlier same titled radio show, was one of, if not the first black led shows on television and so deserves a mention just for that alone. 

Now I will not act as if this show is perfect or ahead of it’s time. The series was controversial even during its day for is depictions of racial stereotypes. Eventually the series was canceled because of protests from the NAACP despite being very popular in the ratings. However I’m a full believer that history should be observed and talked about in order to progress further so check out an episode or two on youtube and decide for yourself if it’s worth remembering or not. 

3. The Adventures of Superman (1952 - 1958)

Ok, not a sitcom, but as we all know, Wandavision isn’t just a sitcom it’s also a superhero show and this is one of the first tv series in this genre. It and the Fleischer Superman cartoons from the previous decade helped to make the juggernaut industry that we know today. 

Plus Superman did an official crossover with I Love Lucy, seriously. 

4. The Adventures of Ozzie and Harriet (1952 - 1966)

Hardly anyone talks about it today, but Ozzie and Harriet is the longest running sitcom to date. It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia being the only other show threating to up seat it come next year. However the two sitcoms couldn’t be any more different. 

The series stared the real life Nelson family who had got their start in radio as comedians and singers who then crossed over into tv. While the show was completely scripted it tried to hew as close to real life as possible, kicking off American’s obsession with platonic voyeurism. Much in the way Wandavision has the meta storyline of being watch in their own home. 

5. Father Knows Best (1954 - 1960)

Another radio to television entry here, however the series drastically changed the main character during the transition. During the 40s radio sitcoms were very biting and sarcastic, often either going the complete surreal screwball route or were satires of the day. This fell out of favor as tv became more dominated by commercials and advertisers feared offending their potential costumers. So things were greatly toned down as the decade progressed. 

Therefore when Father Knows Best hit the small screen gone was the rude and domineering dad and in his place we got the very model tv father; affable, gentle, loving, devoted, and very congenial. All traits we love to see in Vision some six decades later.      

6. The Honeymooners (1955 - 1956)

I physically can not make a recommendation list of 50s sitcoms and not mention The Hoonymooners. I just can’t. It’s one of the greatest sitcoms ever made and hugely influential. So much so that The Flintstones ripped off the series whole sale to the point that Jackie Gleason threatened to sue Hanna-Barbera. However there’s little such influence in Wandvision. 

See what made The Honeymooners stand out at the time and what gave it such longevity is the fact that the main characters were poor. They lived in a cramped and over crowded sparsely furnitured one bedroom apartment in Brooklyn. They owed bills, they dressed plainly, they worked long hours at low paying jobs, and they were often dirty from said work. 

Much like how Wandavision will pull back the curtain a little to see the reality hiding underneath their suburban utopia, so too did The Honeymooners defy the the ‘perfect American dream’ that was soled on tv during the 50s to show us the trauma of poverty and the only thing that you can do when you find yourself trapped within that reality, laugh. 

7. Leave it to Beaver (1957 - 1963)

You can not get any more quintessentially 50s than Leave it to Beaver. The series has become synonymous with the decade and it’s take on the ideal American family life to the point where it’s become a punchline of numerus jokes criticizing the values and attitudes of the era. 

Does it really deserve such mockery? Who knows. I think one needs to watch it for themselves to decide. However it slots right into the aesthetic that the first episode of Wandavision is trying to recreate and it must have been popular for a reason, right? 

8. The Many Loves of Dobie Gillis (1959 - 1963)

We featured wholesome family sitcoms and screwball comedies with married folks but we haven’t covered any surrealist humor yet, and Wandavision is seeped into that sort of stuff. That’s because there really isn’t a lot of fantasy in most 50s sitcoms. So while the trappings for episode one of Wandavision is very 50s the effects and premise is more 1960s. 

That’s where Dobie Gillis comes into play. Like Wandavision, The Many Loves of Dobie Gillis is based off a comic book, or comic strip rather. However that comic was very down to earth and tame compared to the tv show. More fondly remembered as the inspiration for Scooby Doo a decade later, Dobie Gillis quickly transformed from a typical coming of age show about teenagers to a surreal, sarcastic, tongue in cheek comedy, complete with get rich quick schemes, spys, bongos, and a giant chicken. 

9. Bonanza (1959 - 1973) 

Yeah, I know all of y’all are judging me right now. “A western in a sitcom/sic-fi list? What are you thinking?” Well one really can’t talk about 50s television and not mention westerns of some sort. They permeated all mediums and dominated the cultural air waves. And Bonanza is far more than just a western.

Bonanza is literally every thing. It’s every genre at once; western, historical drama, sitcom, action adventure, satire, crime drama, soap opera ,and yes even the occasional foray into science fiction, albeit with a more Jules Vern take than a typical spaceman theming. 

If Wandavision is a melding pot of seemingly disconnected genres then it’s because Bonanza paved the way with it’s similar breakage of formula. 

10 The Twilight Zone (1959 to 1964)

Yeah, you probably knew this was coming. When not being a homage to sitcoms Wandavision is a downright horror movie, but not one with gore and mindless monsters. Rather the show evokes old school surrealist horror, like that employed in the famous (or infamous) Twilight Zone. 

What you probably didn’t know is that we have the I Love Lucy show to thank for it. See Lucille Ball and her then husband Desi Arnaz had created their own production company in order to make I Love Lucy. This production company,  Desilu Productions, is responsible for picking up Rod Sterling’s pilot and producing The Twilight Zone. 

Runner Ups

Good shows that have little to do with Wandavision but are good anyways.

What’s My Line (1950 - 1967)

Just a really fun game show. Stars of the day would sometimes appear on it including many of the sitcom comedians listed above

Have Gun - Will Travel (1957 - 1963) 

One of the very few pure westerns that I can tolerate. The lead actually cares about people and justice and will stand up to bigots.  

Dennis the Menace (1959 - 1963)

While I have fond memories of the 90s film, I thought it was a tad redundant to put on the list when there’s already Leave it to Beaver. 

So there’s the 50s list. On Wednesday I’ll post a list for the 60s and cover some of the more obvious stuff Wandavision was paying homage to. 

#wandavision #wanda #vision #sitcoms #1950s #marvel #disney #i love lucy

[heyheydidjaknow]

I’m uploading this Friday at 12:10 am. Or, at least, that’s when I finished writing this. Yes, we’re still on the angst thing. It won’t last forever, but still.

Chapter 9

“How is she?”

Donatello sits down next to his brother on the couch. “Same as yesterday,” he sighs. “Comatose.”

“I still can’t believe it,” Raphael smirks. “That stupid bitch decided to total the fuckin—"

“Raphael,” he promises coolly, “I will personally make it my life’s goal to make sure you can never open your mouth again if you don’t shut up.”

He puts his hands up. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Will you two be quiet for a minute? I’m trying to listen.” Leonardo kneels in front of the television.

There is a new news story.

“They can’t arrest her, can they?” The tallest brother glances at the others.

“Nah.” Michelangelo is sprawled out on his portion of the couch, eyes dully focused on the screen. “They’ll side with her before someone from a street gang, ‘specially with those…” He trails off. “’ Sides,” he clears his throat, “any good public defense lawyer would call it self-defense, and there’s no way the police would convict a teenage girl of any degree of murder with the injuries she has; bad press.”

“Mikey,” Leo asks, “how come you know that and not how to multiply numbers by seven?”

“Because seven is a stupid number that was created just to make us all feel stupid.”

“Leo—”

“He’s right,” Raph agrees. “They won’t put her away for something like that.” He chuckles darkly. “Besides, there’s no more evidence.”

“After what happened with the neurologist?”

“Donnie,” Leo turns to look at him. “She’s going to be fine.”

He opens his mouth to argue, closes it.

” The perpetrator,” the news anchor reads, ” was found this morning after a panicked nine-one-one caller had seen the hand of the assailant hanging over a ledge. The corpse had, presumably, been flung away from the scene of the incident as a consequence of the explosion, miraculously landing on the roof of a nearby restaurant. The body has been identified as Fong Zhao, who was arrested on multiple charges of armed battery earlier this year. The police have refrained from offering Channel Six detailed information, but we have an anonymous source who claims that he and the gang he is supposedly involved in, locally referred to as the Purple Dragons, was also involved in the hijacking of a truck carrying a substance believed to be tear gas. The driver of the truck testified in favor of this statement earlier this evening. An investigation is currently ongoing regarding the involvement of the men in question, and we at Channel Six implore our viewers to come forward with any information you may have on the case or the supposed ringleader, the recently escaped Xever Montes. More on that later tonight. Up next, a local—”

Leonardo shuts off the television. “Well, there you go.” He stands up. “See? Didn’t even mention her name.”

Donatello breathes out a sigh of relief. “Good,” he nods after a moment. “That’s... good.” He cradles his head in his hand, his concerns hardly pacified by the report.

This, he cannot excuse. This is entirely a matter of his own negligence.

‘I should’ve noticed sooner, insisted to come with.’ He zones out, his brother starting a conversation about something he cannot bring himself to pay attention to. ‘How could she be that reckless? It’s Shredder for fuck’s sake; I should’ve at least noticed the body or something, anything.’ His fingers lace together as he stares a hole into the ground. ‘Even if I couldn’t have stopped her, I should’ve been there, if only after the fact.’ He runs his tongue along his teeth absentmindedly. ‘Some ninja I am. Some friend. Some—’

“So, I broke Y/N’s arms, right?”

His head snaps up. “You what?”

“There he is,” Raph chuckles. “Knew that’d get his attention.”

“Don’t make me go over there,” he glares. His face flushes in embarrassment.

Leonardo rolls his eyes at his brother’s antics. “As I was saying, it’s been pretty quiet, hasn’t it? Since the incident?”

“Now that you mention it,” Raph points out, “since the whole Leatherhead fiasco, I don’t think anything’s really happened. Ya know, besides the Kraang thing.” He crosses his arms behind his head, leaning back into the couch. “It’s been getting’ kinda boring If I’m bein’ honest.”

“It’s that desire to fight that’s going to get you killed,” Donatello informs him, staring at the television screen. “Saw what happened to her, right? Weren’t you just saying how stupid she was being?”

“Yeah, but that’s different.” He smiles sharply. “She’s got exactly no training. As much as you guys seem to have a thing for humility all of a sudden,” he waves his hand contemptuously, “the only reason she got hurt is that she was being stupid, so we’re pretty much undefeated, no thanks to Leo.”

He stands up, deciding against fighting him. “If you need me,” he says curtly, “I’ll be in my lab.”

“Watch it, Raph,” the eldest brother snaps.

“Why should I?” He throws his hands up. “Am I wrong?”

Mikey quietly grabs his comic off the floor, retreating to his room, presumably.

Donatello slides the door in between him and his brothers as he sits down at his desk.

You have been stuck in the hospital for about two weeks now.

‘Technically,’ he corrects himself as he pulls his laptop open, ‘it’s been three hundred fifty-seven hours, meaning it’s closer to fifteen days than two weeks. Why do I know that?’ He pulls up an image, uncapping a permanent marker and working on one of the more mindless parts of his latest project: reviving an incredibly battered map. He already has a frame for it once he is finished, but, knowing his brothers, the fading colors would likely be a point of contention if he did not at least make an effort to make it easier to read. Fortunately for him, it is not laminated. Unfortunately—depending on how you look at it— a lot of the finer details—the integral streets names in particular—are all irreparably smudged and, therefore, will have to be all rewritten by hand, turning a once twenty-minute job into at least a two-hour investment.

He tries to tune out the incessant arguing of his two older brothers as he focuses on making his minute handwriting legible despite the infuriatingly fat marker nib.

“You should have taken her offer for a pen when you had the chance,” he mumbles to himself.

His hand stops.

‘Would it be weird to go check on her again? Just to make sure she’s still alright? I mean,’ he goes back to work, ‘even if it were, how would she know?’

He shakes his head to clear it. ‘Stop that. You’re being a creep again.’

Over those two weeks, his distractedness has become more of a problem than it has in the past in reference to his work. He is hardly a stranger to having a thousand thoughts bouncing around his head at once, but where once a rapid stream of information was there is now an aggravatingly slow sludge. The origin of said mind sludge is not at all a mystery to him, which makes the whole thing infinitely more frustrating. ‘Frustrating? Depressing? Does it even matter?’

He rubs his eye absentmindedly with the heel of his palm as he strains to see what he is doing. The smell of the marker is corrosive in his nostrils. His hand shakes. He sets it down, wringing his hands as if to force them back into submission as he stares holes into the map. ‘This is not supposed to be challenging.’ He closes his eyes, the image of you lying on the ground, a bloody, skeletal figure shaking and begging for your life carved into the backs of his eyelids, a hideous scar.

He can not stop thinking about what you said the night before the incident. Something about being able to care for yourself.

What would you say to him now? He imagines that it would be something to remind him of how the accident is your fault, how he should not beat himself up over it, but all that does is convince him that he should have been faster to act or to respond or something. There had to have been something he, in his infinite wisdom, could have done. What else can he reason? That he is powerless? That he had no say in what happened that night of nights?

‘How come I can plan and build a combat vehicle out of alien technology and an old subway car and I can’t—’

He jumps at a loud banging at the door.

“Donnie!” He can hear Raphael’s wicked grin from behind the door. “Bank robbery! Let’s go!”

He sighs, capping the marker. His breakdown will have to wait.

“Comin’!”

--

The ringing in your ears is already annoying.

You have been awake for about five minutes. You have elected against moving for a plethora of reasons, but the ringing is a relatively large determining factor in your decision. You are, admittedly, not sure where you are until you hear the tell-tale incessant beeping you remember from your childhood. You do not open your eyes yet. You are incredibly drowsy for some reason.

‘Hospital?’

You sit up carefully, wincing as a numb pain permeates through your arms. You run your fingers over your face curiously, feeling for any perceived disfigurement as your eyes scan your surroundings. The small room you have been placed in seems standard; there are a couple of chairs under a window that makes up half of the wall, a television screen in a corner of the room, an inoffensive painting, and a small vase filled with some sort of white flowers.

You feel a protruding scar on the right side of your face. It traces from the bridge of your nose to about halfway across your cheekbone. As you bring your hands down to pull the hospital gown away from your body, you catch sight of your hands. Long, jagged cuts run vertically along the front of your hands, and as your eyes travel up your arms, you notice fewer, shorter scars along the insides of your forearms. You swallow, pulling the cloth away from your body to see long scratches running from your thighs to under your ribcage. You pull the blanket off to find that one of your legs is encased in a white cast.

You blink. ‘What stupid thing did I do?’

You lay back down, fingers absentmindedly tracing the scars. ‘I must have been out for a bit.’ You push the hair out of your face, noting how oddly shaky your hands are as you try to focus on what had happened. ‘Why wouldn’t my folks be here? They wouldn’t ditch me in a hospital, would they?’ You hold them out in front of you, palms to the ceiling. ‘I don’t look old or anything. My nails aren’t much longer than they were before, so I can’t have been out for that long.’

Your eyebrows furrow. ‘Parents…’ You swallow. ‘Oh, right. The fire.’ Your eyes go out of focus. ‘Dead. I was, too, until recently.’ You put your arms down. ‘I’m hungry. Where am I?’ You close your eyes. ‘New York. East coast. How far is the East Coast from the West Coast? I should call her so she knows I’m—no, she’s dead.’

“All dead and gone,” you mumble the tune to yourself.

You cover your face. ‘Focus. What happened?’ You recall what you think is a church. ‘Turtles. Turtle. Oh, TMNT. Where are people? Focus.’ You yank at a piece of your hair, mumbling to yourself as you try to run through the memory again.

The image of that man’s body takes your breath away.

You shut your eyes tighter. ‘Right. Car. Glass. Glass would be a good candy. Could you make glass out of sugar? Isn’t that what a lollipop is?’ You hug yourself tightly, careful of the IV as you roll onto your side towards it. ‘I killed someone. Someones. That’s not a word. Gasoline smells bad.’ You feel tears prick at your eyes. ‘I deserve to die for that. There has to have been an easier way to do that. I deserve to burn again. That explosion was so prettily animated in that episode. I can’t breathe.’

You curl your legs up towards you, using the arm not connected to the IV to hook behind your knees. You bury your head in your shoulder as you force your breathing to slow. ‘I miss her. Where is he? They’re dead and you killed them, you heartless bitch.’

You feel a sob rise in your throat. You swallow it back. ‘Stop being a pussy.’ You hear yourself start to count softly. ‘They’re all dead and gone. You’re on your own here, so get a grip.’ You grip the blanket. ‘After all, who are you going to turn to? The guys who already risk their lives every day? Or maybe Splinter, who will probably tell you some bullshit about letting your pain go?’

‘That’s not fair,’ you argue with yourself. ‘You can turn to Murakami. Casey might be willing to help.’

‘Because Casey’s known for his reliability and Murakami would want to deal with your stupid emotional problems.’

“Twenty-three,” you whisper, keeping your voice even. “Twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six…’

You pull yourself back up, bringing your knee to your chest as you wipe any tears that may have leaked out with the back of your hand.

You do not have to wait long until someone comes in to check on you, a taller gentleman with sharp features and sunken eyes behind curly black hair. He introduces himself as Nurse McGrath, gives you a run down of the dizzying number of injuries you had suffered in the accident, what they had done to fix the problem, and starts to discuss what would become of you now.

“The doctor predicts that you’ll be able to remove your cast in approximately six weeks, and that you will regain your fine-motor skills fully in eight.” He is obviously half asleep, but you can hardly blame him; the clock on the wall reads that it is about three in the morning. “The symptoms from the whiplash should completely fade in about three months. If you would be open, there are medications we can prescribe to help with the pain.”

You smile. “Thank you, sir, but I’d rather not.” You are sincerely concerned what might happen if you start taking any sort of medication right now, considering your mental health.

“I should probably warn you in advance that the police might ask you to come in to identify the guys who kidnapped you.”

You blink, confused. “How do they know I was kidnapped?”

“Anonymous tip, according to the news.” He scratches something into some form or another. “I dunno the specifics, but nobody thinks they’re gonna charge you with anything, ‘specially since the driver was from that street gang.”

You nod. “Gotcha.” You purse your lips. “What day is it?”

“Twenty-fourth, now.”

You sigh. “Well,” you shrug, ignoring the pain it causes, “at least I’m not dead.”

“At least.” He caps his pen. “Technically, you’re free to leave, but the doc thinks it’s a good idea to stay overnight. Your insurance provider has your medical bills covered, so you’re good for it.”

“Honestly? I’m surprised I don’t feel weaker.” You smile. “I’m more than happy to head home tonight, if that makes most sense.”

“Personally, I wouldn’t stay.” He starts heading out of your room. “Your cellphone is locked up. I’m guessing you want it?”

You nod eagerly, realizing quickly that makes the ringing worse.

“I’ll bring it right back, then.”

You refrain from touching it until he leaves.

It looks as if it was put in a blender, but you find it does still turn on. A problem quickly arises: your hands cannot hold the phone. You set it down on the mattress, each movement taking a ridiculous amount of time to coordinate as you type like someone who has never used a phone before. ‘Fine motor skills. Right.’ You type out a message after approximately too long that tells Donnie that you are out of the hospital and heading home.

You check out of the hospital at approximately four-thirteen. The trip home is a straight line of a walk that takes you approximately twenty minutes. Getting in through the door with a walker is a bit of a challenge, but it works out well enough.

You lock the door and windows when you get home, shutting your phone off as you crawl into bed.

You let out a low groan as your head punishes you for your heinous crime of moving. You had realized ten minutes into your walk that you were not at all physically strong enough to walk that long, and you already hate yourself for it, among other reasons. As you crawl into bed, ignoring your body’s protest, you still stand by your decision to not take any medication, especially now.

You feel as though you are being suffocated as you cling onto your pillow, pressing your face into it as you cry silently, the ringing in your ears only getting louder in the silence of your apartment.

‘I feel sick.’

You remember your first night here. You remember the feeling it had caused you, the numb ache of loss as you submitted to the situation you had found yourself in. It feels like an eternity ago, now. You know, logically, it cannot have been more than two months since you got here.

You had decided against taking a cab back home. You had the cash, and you still do, in your bloodstained pocket. You saw many as you walked home, and you had turned a blind eye to them all.

You feel yourself trembling again. You remember the first night you had slept on your own here, the nightmares you swore were the product of a mind much more sadistic than yours ever was. You remember, too, the nightmares you had after Bradford, the way that, for the first time in your life since you were five years old you woke up drenched in sweat and crying for your mother.

What possible dream could come from this?

You reach a hand to the nightstand, hovering over your cellphone as you consider your next action.

Slowly, you retract it, letting it rest next to you. ‘It’s four. He’s not awake.’ You do not have the energy to get up to grab the bottle of sleeping pills from your bathroom.

‘I don’t want to sleep. I can’t take another nightmare.’ You rest your cheek on the pillow, forcing your eyes shut. ‘Mare. Why is it called a nightmare? Are mares truly that terrifying?’

“One,” you whisper. “Two. Three.”

Table of Contents

Chapter 8

Chapter 10

#tmnt 2012 #tmnt fanfiction #tmnt #tmnt donnie #tmnt 2k12 #tmnt donatello #teenage #teenage mutant ninja turtles 2012 #teenage mutant ninja turtles #donnie x reader #2012 donnie #donnie #donatello x reader #donatello #probably inaccurate depiction of whiplash and getting out of the hospital #grew up around hospitals #but I only ever saw people go in #not out. so IDK how accurate any of it is. #all the angst #angst #scars #regret #nyc #walker #just hurt no comfort #comfort will be later but not today #tmnt x reader #x reader #reader insert #self insert

[whateverafterhigh]

Worldbuilding Succession Systems: Goodfallow

Most of what we see or hear when it comes to the succession systems in the universe that Ever After High is set in relates to fairytales and the inheritance of specific character roles. Many of the fairytale royalty are born into their royal bloodlines or otherwise marry in. But there are some kingdoms where things aren’t as easy as that. One such kingdom is the Good King’s Kingdom – which I named Goodfallow in another post.

The Good King is a fairytale character, but his role in Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs is small. In fact, depending on the adaption of the story you read he might have already died by the time the story has officially begun. He’s not quite dead yet in the series, seeing as he’s still raising Raven Queen, but it is never acknowledged that Raven is in line for the throne. Not even as a “Hey, maybe Raven has her dad’s destiny…” kind of way, which you would expect given Raven is constantly fighting for any destiny other than her mother’s. Going that route might seem like too easy a fix to acknowledge in the series, especially early on, no matter how powerful a red herring that would be for the readers. It could have even been used to make Grimm start to worry on whether or not he actually guessed right when it comes to writing the fake book. Grimm doubting himself would have been great, even more so if it’s a big thing to have forgotten that the Good King needs an heir too.

The potential for drama aside, there must have been something else that made everyone think they were right so conclusively (and I’m not speaking of the gendered characters, there are too many female characters who have their father’s destinies for that to be the reason).

Then I had an idea.

The Goodfallow Crown

I wanted to create a succession system for Goodfallow that would be able to stand up to the Storybook of Legends on something akin to even ground. Obviously, I didn’t want it to have such a grand scale. But I knew I wanted something magical, and I knew I wanted it to be possible that the Storybook of Legends (the original) could guess wrong. (I mean what even is the point of having an antagonist as powerful and insufferable as Headmaster Grimm if he wasn’t able to grasp at some straws to save face and avoid even the harshest of punishments?). Still I wanted Grimm to be arrogant enough that he wouldn’t have worried about Raven’s position as the Evil Queen until she was throwing the book in his face on Legacy Day.

This meant I needed something with so many possibilities that something like the Storybook of Legends would have a hard time even coming up with the most likely outcome for the Next Good King. Something that could be affected up until the moment that the Good King has been crowned. And something that had the magical power to break the magical contract to the Storybook of Legends that signing it would create without extensive repercussions – something that would cause a page to fall out on its own if need be.

Also it needed to be something that played into what a Good King should be, it is what is choosing the reigning monarch after all.

In Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, the Evil Queen is defined by her attitude and treatment of the kingdom’s people, so it only makes sense that the Good King be defined in the same way. So I played with the idea of the Good King being an elected position that passed down the bloodline out of convenience and all the things that real life kings and queens have to do to make sure that the people don’t start up a revolution. Something like the Sword in the Stone from King Arthur’s legends could do that, the same could be said for Thor’s Hammer (though I wasn’t actually thinking of Mjolnir when spider-mapping ideas).

I couldn’t see it being an actual sword, as cool as it would be for the Good King to actually have the kingdom’s blessing of sorts to raise his sword at those who wronged him. And after reading the fairytale Prince Darling, where there is a ring that pricks the young Prince on the finger every time he does something wrong in hopes that it will make him into a good person, I thought of using a crown.

The Goodfallow Crown, named such because it is the physical manifestation of the collective will of all the citizens of Goodfallow ticks a lot of the boxes for what I wanted.

It’s magic, powerful enough to break the bindings created by the Storybook of Legends because I’m the author and I say so. A lot of citizens in Goodfallow mean a lot of different possibilities for whether or not they think a candidate is the best for the Good King. It can still be meddled with before the inheritance ceremony, popularity and propaganda are going to be important – the same goes for whether or not a candidate knows what they’re doing. In turn this could be what makes Grimm so arrogant in his assertions that Raven will have her mother’s destiny.

The students at Ever After High are shown to be scared of Raven to the point they scream and run away from her. At the start of the books she assumes that this is just a side effect from her destiny as her mother had mentioned that something of the sort would happen when she reached a certain age. But it could be argued that this has more to do with how bullying of Raven (or any supposedly-evil-aligned character) was encouraged by Grimm or other members of the faculty, high tensions from how close Legacy Day is for her etc. Because Raven does get more popular as the books go on, and because the characters act a similar way in the beginning of the show’s canon it could be argued that she get’s popular enough to win Thronecoming.

But it’s not just Raven’s lack of popularity. Grimm makes all the final class decisions when it comes to what subject’s students can take, so he can ensure that Raven never takes classes that would prepare her for being the Good King (Kingdom Management, Throne Economics, etc…) and then there’s the low possibility that the people of Goodfallow would accept someone who willingly signs up to potentially marry the king of a neighbouring country, abuse their power, and even get arrested or die before having kids as their Ruler. This is one case where the Storybook of Legends doesn’t need to be real for the damage to be done. And Grimm has no reason to not be arrogant about his guesses until Legacy Day where Raven declares she wants to write her own destiny on the in-verse equivalent of international television he’s not going to worry too much.

The tangent into Grimm’s motives and assumptions show that having Goodfallow’s succession system be like this will only add another layer to some of the things going on in the series, and this can even be applied to other characters too. Raven would have grown up in a kingdom where your actions mean more then what you say, so even agreeing to sign the Storybook of Legends and live her own life after would have not been in the cards for her (not to mention it would cheapen Apple’s own story if she asked that of Raven), and Queen White would have also grown up in Goodfallow given the Good King is her father as well, and that could add a really interesting layer to her own character and her obsession with popularity. Especially in the context of the Class of Classics comic which shows that Snow was once a studious student like Apple was but has now seemingly forgone that in favour of focusing on popularity (which is the same in the books as well as Dragon Games). It certainly speaks of there being more to her character then what we’ve gotten.

Now it’s just a matter of figuring out how the Good Fallow Crown works.

It seems a bit much to have someone attempt to wear the crown for the first time on their coronation, and I’m also understanding of the fact that it’s technically headwear and therefore can’t get heavier if the kingdom seems to disagree with an idea or something else – also Goodfallow isn’t a hivemind? So there would need to be some kind of inheritance test. Perhaps for officially declaring a Crown Prince or Princess.

Historically, Crown Princes or Princesses seem to given the title when they are ready for it. With the announcement happening sometime between the ages of fourteen and eighteen, unless their parents were dead, and they were ruling through a Regent. Raven is fifteen when Legacy Day takes place so sixteen seems like a more reasonable time for the ceremony to happen. Though obviously some of the kingdoms would name their children the Crown Prince or Princess earlier (I’m thinking Briar and Hopper might have been given their titles when their Magic Touch developed, given its significance to their stories).

So the sixteen year old heir would try the crown on. It would be impractical for the circle of people who can hold or lift the crown to be small a la Thor’s Hammer, especially when it’s the literal Will of the People. So, magical girl transformation?

Very basic, plain clothes are to be worn with no jewellery – because you might lose it otherwise. If the people agree with the Prince or Princess being a good candidate for the throne then they’ll get decked out in finery when the magic is a match. If not then there’s no change. (Not that that prevents rumours from spreading to the contrary).

“Rumour has it the Evil Queen tried to wear the crown once and it set her on fire.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, that’s why her hair is like that now.”

Of course, the changes don’t stop at the Inheritance Ceremony. Just because the Goodfallow Crown doesn’t get infinitely heavier when the Good King does something the people don’t agree with that doesn’t mean that nothing happens. Raven’s dad is described as being bald in the books, and I like to think that the reason for that is the people of Goodfallow not agreeing with him marrying the Evil Queen, while still understanding why he did it. But there would likely be other affects as well. Such as increased stress, anxiety, paranoia, etc. Maybe a lack of motivation in his day to day life? I don’t know, but the Goodfallow Crown does take the phrase “Heavy is the head that wears the crown” to a whole new meaning.

I love the whole thought of this, as evidenced by the fact it takes up almost three whole pages in a Word Document. Definitely one of my favourite pieces of worldbuilding I’ve done for any fandom ever.

#eah #ever after high #raven queen #the good king #queen kingdom #goodfallow #headmaster grimm #milton grimm #worldbuilding

[ishouldreallybeelsewhere]

okay so that loki video essay thing was going well, and then like a day into writing it i lost the hyperfixation so it's never gonna be finished. i still think it's alright, completely unedited, entirely a train of thought, i hope you like commas and pacific rim, it's only 2.8k

btw if something doesn't make sense, i was writing this while watching some video essays, and also haven't read it

Introduction

Loki is a show, well you know that, but a show that does everything right, until it doesn’t (crazy, I know). If you’re here, I assume you’ll already know a fair bit about it, but if you don’t, here’s a quick refresher. Spoilers for everything MCU.

Loki begins in 2012, technically, just after the Avengers go back through time from Endgame to meet themselves and grab the infinity stones. Unfortunately, the plan goes awri, and Loki ends up in possession of the Tesseract, the mind stone. With this, he teleports to a desert in [a place] and is quickly arrested and apprehended by the Time Keepers for ‘Crimes Against the Sacred Timeline.’ Sounds a bit cult-y if you ask me, and given that you’re stuck here, you will ask me. Essentially, his actions (taking the tesseract) were not supposed to happen. They created a branch, a new timeline, and, according to the TVA, if left unchecked, the timeline could cause a multiversal war that would result in the end of time. This is, to put it simply, a very interesting premise, and the first two episodes do a wonderful job of exploring the TVA and searching for the mysterious Loki variant who causes chaos and mischief, all while evading the time cops.

What is the TVA? Well, it’s the Time Variance Authority, which clears up nothing to those who haven’t seen the show. I would let a clip explaining it play, but I think I’d get a copyright strike, even though I’m fairly sure it’s within fair use. Regardless, the TVA is an organisation supposedly created by the Time Keepers, space lizards who brought together all of time into a singular sacred timeline. Had they not done this, time itself would have ended, how they did this is unexplained, and likely either impossible, or they are greater than gods in their power. Loki is immediately doubtful, but can’t deny that they must hold some power, because not only does his magic not work in the TVA, but infinity stones are useless too. Time is also stranger there too, more an idea as opposed to a set part of their reality. Many theorise that they reside within the quantum realm, which makes sense, as that is how one travels through time, at least in the marvel universe, but we can’t be sure until we get an explanation. Of course, I’m writing this long before I’ll see the finale, so who knows, perhaps I’ll have to rewrite it.

Now I’ve said all that without explaining what the TVA actually does. It’s pretty simple, similar to Stephen Hawking’s (???) ideas of the multiverse, every decision you make has the ability to make another timeline, one that is not part of the sacred way of time, and therefore must be pruned by the TVA before it grows enough to cause another multiversal war, despite multiverses being well-established in the MCU, but I know that’s different. Or perhaps the Time Keepers are lying (spoiler, they are, just not exactly in that way). Anyway, when someone makes a decision or takes an action that creates a new timeline, the TVA arrives. Minutemen arrest the ‘Variant’ responsible, despite their lack of intentional crime, and prune the new timeline, which we are told destroys it. Then Variants must stand trial for their crimes, in which they can either plead guilty or not, but really, that doesn’t make much difference, as they’re unable to make a case, let alone get away as innocent. Before they reach the court, however, Variants are dressed in TVA jumpsuits, have to sign off every word they’ve ever said, and a snapshot of their temporal aura is taken, for some reason. Yeah, it’s not really ever explained why they have to go through all that, like, why don’t they just prune them all, or just send them straight to court. It seems like they’re putting on a big show for nothing. Of course, if you have to go through all that, you probably won’t have time to think about the whys of your situation, which I’m sure the TVA uses to their advantage.

Now, we’re heading into real spoiler-y stuff, just in case anyone here hasn't watched episode three. If you haven’t, why are you here? Go, finish the whole series, and then come back. Alrighty. Now that everyone’s seen it all (apart from me at this point) we can continue.

Everyone working at the TVA is a Variant, and they don’t know it. The Time Keepers are said to have created everything within the TVA, every analyst, Minuteman, and whatever the other roles are. But that’s not true. They’re all variants who’ve been taken from their own timelines and had their memories wiped. This gives an explanation for the courtrooms, and the process to get into them. Robots will be melted from the inside out if they go through the temporal aura machine thingy, and I have a feeling it’s harder to reset a robot’s memories. Living beings are let through, and their actions in the courtroom could give a good overview of their strengths and intelligence, so it can be decided whether they’ll be pruned or ‘reset’ which we are told is killed, but with the information of them all being variants now available, is more likely having all their memories hidden, replaced with the idea that they’ve been at the TVA their whole lives, and that they were created by the timekeepers. Though why would space lizards create workers in the image of humans instead of like their own lizard-y selves. The TVA as a whole, as we are introduced to it, feels very cult-y. Things such as the videos Variants are shown upon being arrested, the whole ‘Sacred Timeline’ thing, the Time Keepers being viewed as almost gods, and that when one of the TVA’s own minutemen is told the truth (C-20) she is, well, removed. The TVA views Variants as criminals of the highest order. How dare they violate the sacred timeline?!!? Only, no variant knew that what they were doing was wrong, or that it even mattered, but if you’re late to work on a day where you weren’t supposed to be, then you’re removed from your timeline and charged. The sentence? Essentially death, or removal of all your memories and being lied to about everything, which might be worse depending on your stance on that kind of thing.

Anyway, the minutemen themselves are another issue that the TVA has. They respond with violence at every available opportunity, like when a young french child from the 1500s walks into a church, the first thing a minuteman does is reach for his weapon. This is also the scene where we’re introduced to my favourite character, Mobius, but more on him later. For now, I need to stay on track and keep in mind this part of the view has to remain consistent. All I can think of are the nerds I split. It seems I have an inability to stay on topic, however, I’m gonna try so you have fun keeping up with that.

Loki stood trial for crimes against the Sacred Timeline and, like any logical person may in that situation, relentlessly questions the validity of his conviction. The answers he’s provided with he just,, kind of,, disagrees with, which is fair. The concept of the TVA and the sacred timeline as a whole is absurd to him, as who would a god serve?

Part one: Glorious Purpose

Loki, in his own words, it ‘Burdened With Glorious Purpose.’ I’m so glad no one but me is gonna read this draft cuz I managed to spell many of those words wrong. His glorious purpose, in his eyes, is becoming the ruler of all, removing free will and choice from those beneath him, in a twisted attempt to make it easy for all living things. He believes in free will, at least, the free will of himself, and also believes that, out of everyone in the universe, he is the one who is right, the one who can make the world better, that is his burden. Now, you may look at that and think, ‘hey, for a god of mischief, that doesn’t seem very mischievous,’ and you’d be right. It isn’t. He’s evil, like, without a doubt, an evil person in his ideals and views of the universe, however, the change from mischief to villainy was rapid, as it’s shown that he was D.B. Cooper, and, when asked, said it was because he was ‘young and lost a bet to Thor’, which, like, okay, but that was the 60s or something. 50 years aren’t a lot in the face of 1,500, but a lot can happen then

Part something: ethics

So, as you’ve probably gathered by now, I’m a pretentious asshole, and with that comes three years of philosophy classes and a superiority complex, though perhaps that comes from the whole leftist thing. Anyway, as per usual, I got sidetracked. I’m watching a really good video atm, so lots of things are happening in my head right now. Back to being pretentious, I’m going to be talking about ethics, fun, and how that relates to the TVA, the sacred timeline, Kang, sorry, he who remains. Regarding the whole Kang thing, I haven’t read a single Marvel comic since I was a member of the comic book club 4(???) years ago. Gods, I’m so old. Yup Percy Jackson took up too much of my childhood. Sidetracked again! I apologise, anyway, everything I know about Kang the Conqueror comes from Tumblr, so I’m not going to spend any time talking about any parts of the character that aren’t shown in the show. I really want to be writing about Doctor Who right now but I have my notes up so I’m gonna do this. Okay, right. Ethics. I hope I don’t go into free will right now because I will never stop going on about that. Anyway, let's look at the TVA, ignoring Kang, not for simplicity, but to see if the ends do in fact justify the means as Mobius said. And by that I mean, if what employees of the TVA think is true, are their actions justified? Finally got to the point, after how many words? Too many, anyway, let’s start from the start (kinda).

In an actual, proper, organised essay, I think that whole last paragraph was supposed to be 1 (one) sentence long, maybe. I have been writing year nine level essays for many years, despite not being in year nine for many, many years, so, be glad you’re reading something I’m interested in. Back to the topic at hand, please. Sorry I just got distracted again. I shouldn’t have Tumblr open atm. Anyway, what are the TVA’s means? So, I’ve already explained what the TVA is, and what it does, but let’s use a fun example to show what they really do. Imagine you’re a kid (or maybe you are a kid, so imagine you’re a younger one) and you just got home from school. You just made an awesome new friend who believes in you and loves your art. This sparks your interest in art, leading to countless pieces, days and days spent drawing and painting and having a great time. Your art begins to take hold on the world, speaking to people, letting them believe in themselves, thousands upon thousands of people inspired to start their own art, to rebel against the system of capitalism and teach people that there’s more to life than a job. This begins the global radicalisation of the working class, and with that, rebellion and the downfall of capitalism. I’m in a good mood rn, feeling optimistic, so don’t worry about what’s happening. Anyway, with the downfall of human exploitation and eradication of poverty comes a branch in the Sacred Timeline, and as the root of it is you as a child making a friend, your 5-year-old self just committed a crime that, according to the TVA, is worthy of what they believe to be actual death, like, being pruned.

Now, this was a very umm, off-the-top-of-my-head example, and entirely makes no sense, but give me two seconds and I’ll remember my original point. Right. The risk of allowing the downfall of capitalism is the end of all time. Always. Maybe? But, in the eyes of the TVA, kidnapping a 5-year-old, putting them through a dehumanising process to be shoved in a courtroom and being accused of crimes against the sacred timeline, and what was the crime? Making a goddamn friend. As a child. Being supported in art. Doing what you enjoy, destroying oppressive systems that will eventually be the downfall of us all and so entwined with all the problems in the world that any chance of saving it revolves around its deconstruction. I’ve been hunched over too long and my back is really starting to hurt, but the essay must go on. And remember, the domino effect of that friendship never actually happened. The timeline was pruned before it could happen, so the crime is literally making a friend. Very extreme example sorry, but shock makes your point go across faster, and also sparks outrage, which I don’t want to happen, but with doing literally anything comes backlash, like stepping on the wrong leaf, or a butterfly. I hope you guys know that this is unplanned and probably unedited. Okay I need to watch Pacific Rim again. Okay imagine now they kill the child. Right. That’s likely what would happen. Children are weak (usually, Sylvie is just on another level of awesome) [author’s note, Crimson Peak is a horror movie and I’m very upset by that cuz now I won’t be able to watch it]. Alright, so, kill a child, or destroy all of time. Always. Maybe. The way we see the TVA in the first two episodes is through Loki’s eyes, as a cult-like lie with a cool retro/futuristic aesthetic (like Doctor Who, but more on that later). I have been sitting here for 4 hours and I can confidently say my cat is an asshole whose sole purpose in life is to want to come in right when I’m in the middle of a point only to not want to come in but allow me to lose exactly what I was about to say, meaning I’ve gotten next to nothing done. Hi, I'm back. I got distracted by My Little Pony and Pacific Rim. And checkers. Issues with pacing? I don’t know what you’re talking about.

Okay, so, I’m going to say something possibly controversial. When the stakes are the endings of the entirety of time, it’s okay to let a child die, and technically they might not die they’d just be sent to be either devoured the void or saved by a ragtag team of loki variants. Which is not great. That might sound like I agree with the TVA, but trust me, I do not. Not in the slightest. I hate the slimy bastards. (I do love every single character though, like all of them are awesome) The prickly pricks will bury us all!!! I don’t agree with them because I think there is a better way to handle the multiversal problem and the issue that arises regarding the particular cause of the multiversal war. That made no sense. You’re really just gonna have to guess at this point, however, for the solution, we must look into the finale and the reasoning behind He Who Remains’ plan. I said I wasn’t going to talk about him, but I lied (rule number one). Basically, from what I understood of his plan (which wasn’t much, I’m pretty stupid) was that there were two options; option number one was to leave him there, looking over all of time, preventing free will, so that the infinite variants of him that would come from timelines wouldn’t once again attempt to conquer all of the timelines (though if there are infinite ones, how would that work? Just kidding, you’re not allowed to question this). He dictates all. There’s no such thing as free will, and if you dare veer off the path, you will be pruned, and your timeline destroyed. His plan is to hand that power over to Loki and Sylvie, because he’s getting old and has lived long enough. The other option (and the one that’s taken in the show) is to allow Sylvie to kill He Who Remains and let the multiverse unfold, allow free will and chaos to reign, with the possibility and established likelihood of the destruction of time itself. Now, just putting this out here, what if there was a third option? My proposition is based of knowing next to nothing and not having seen Loki in a while, and that is,

#loki #loki show #loki series #loki tv show #i don't even know what this is #uhhh i don't think i agree with all the points i made and i also used some very crap example #this is not a good peice of writing and it's from several months ago #if you talk to me about it i won't get back to you.